


Unfamiliar Territory

by ItsOphelia



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bering and Wells AU Week, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-04 20:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1791970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsOphelia/pseuds/ItsOphelia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For AU Week 2014 - High school AU set in London. </p><p>On a school trip to England, recently heartbroken Myka is looking to immerse herself in a brand new culture. The unfamiliar feelings she develops are not at all what she was expecting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ten Pounds

Myka Bering stared out of the airplane window as it gathered speed and flew off the runway. She watched Colorado grow small beneath her as the plane gained height, and for a moment imagined she was leaving all of her troubles down there – back home. Unfortunately, almost all of them were sat in the seat next to her in the form of the guy attempting to ignore her very existence. She tried to ignore him too, staring resolutely out of the window, but she could feel a painful lump developing in her throat.

She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment she realized that it wasn't working, that they were going separate ways in life. They moved in completely different circles – she couldn’t stand the types of parties he and his friends frequented and he described most of her friends as ‘lame’. Things were best when it was just the two of them, but as their classwork piled up these times were few and far between. Of course, simply deciding that she couldn't do it anymore was the easy part. It took two whole weeks of lists, tears, sleepless nights, syncing of schedules and hurt conversations before she finally managed to break it off. Five weeks later the initial heartbreak was beginning to fade and give way to relief, but she was still dealing with some painful fallout.

It had been fine whilst she had exams. They gave her the perfect excuse to shut herself away in her bedroom or the library, letting her brain get lost in her studies. She’d managed to avoid most forms of human contact and the questions coming from everybody – her mom and her sister, her friends and classmates. Most of whom couldn’t believe she’d let go the relationship that gave her any kind of social standing.

‘You broke up with _Sam Martino_?’ was most frequently asked of her in incredulous tones.

Yes, she had – and it had spread around the school like wildfire. Which is why she was sure half the plane was staring with interest at them steadfastly ignoring each other. Their school trip to England had been planned months ago, seating arrangements and tour groups set in stone. There was no getting out of the fact that she’d be touring London for two weeks with a guy who probably hated her guts - after she’d spent ten hours on a plane with him, of course.

She felt her eyes burn and the tears began to slip down her face. She hadn't wanted this. Sam had been her chemistry partner, then her friend, then her boyfriend. They’d always got on so well, and as a pair of the most intelligent and (in her opinion) mature students in their year, she’d thought they’d have an amicable break up. Surely he’d realized things weren’t working too? Apparently not. And apparently they weren't as mature as she’d thought they were, because he was behaving like a petulant child and she was sitting here crying.

She took a deep breath in an attempt to control herself, but she heard it catch and waver so she closed her eyes and mouth tightly before an audible sob could break free. She wasn’t sure how she’d bear the entire flight. She wasn't sure she could stand the guy who’d once been her friend hating her so much, someone who’d meant the world to her not knowing or caring how he was currently making her feel.

Someone cared, though. It was after a while of trying (and failing) to console herself that she noticed that someone was poking the top of her head. She inwardly sighed and tried to ignore them, but the pokes just got more insistent. Pissed that she’d have to give up her resolve of sitting as still and quietly as possible, Myka tried to bat away her tormentor. She was pleasantly surprised to feel her fingers connect with a rope of candy instead of skin and bone. She peered around to see Pete sitting behind her, dangling a Twizzler over the top of her seat. He met her eyes and his mischievous smile faded at the sight of her forlorn appearance. Unable to do much from where he was sitting, he wordlessly handed her the package and she gave him a watery smile.

Having her favorite candy to chew on definitely cheered her up a little, and allowed her to eventually swallow through the lump in her throat. Done with crying, she decided she wasn't going to let her break up ruin her trip. She was going to lose herself in her book and ignore him completely for the rest of the flight.

Unfortunately, her bladder had other plans. Realistically she knew there was no way she could hold it for the next seven hours. But still she prolonged the inevitable, psyching herself up until she absolutely had to go. She took a deep breath and stood up, then turned and looked down at Sam – who was still stubbornly looking straight ahead.

‘Excuse me,’ she muttered.

At first he acted like he hadn't heard her, and she felt her cheeks grow red as she stood there, the chatter of her classmates dying away as they turned to watch with interest.

‘Excuse me, please.’

Though she spoke quietly, her words seemed much louder when spoken to an audience. Eventually Sam sighed in irritation, causing her cheeks to flush even redder, and slowly got out of his seat to allow her to pass.

She went to the bathroom, glad to see that there was no longer evidence of tears on her face. She leaned her face against the cool mirror until the signs of her embarrassment had faded, staying in the bathroom for as long as she could. Finally emerging, she hoped that he wasn't going to cause another scene when she went to sit down.

Immense relief hit her when she saw a dark head in the seat next to hers instead of a blonde one. She allowed herself a brief glance at Sam looking sulky in the row behind before Pete jumped up and gestured for her to sit down. She did so, and flashed him a genuine smile as he joined her.

‘Thanks.’

‘No problemo. Couldn't have you sitting next to that toolbag for any longer than necessary.’

‘What did Professor Nielsen say about you switching seats?’

‘Nothing, he’s asleep.’

Satisfied that they weren’t going to face the wrath of their grumpy history teacher, Myka allowed herself to relax for the first time since she’d got on the plane. Glad that she was looking happier, Pete decided to chance conversation. He sort of understood why she’d clammed up lately, but he missed her.

‘So, looking forward to our big English adventure?’

‘Yeah…’ Her tone was entirely unconvincing. She really was excited – when she’d found out about her first ever chance to escape small town Colorado and explore a brand new culture, she’d jumped at the opportunity. She just wasn't looking forward to the company.

‘C’mon, Mykes, you've been looking forward to this one for months! We’re gonna take London by storm. We can look around all those boring – sorry, historically enriching – monuments Prof. Nielsen has planned and then you can be my wingman. I need to pick up at least one hot British girl who’ll fall for my cute American charm.’

‘You don’t have cute American charm.’

‘I do so.’

‘Is this the charm where you fit a whole bag of marshmallows in your mouth? Or the charming way you can turn your eyelids inside out?’

‘You’ll see, Bering. Ten dollars says I score before we go home.’

‘Make it ten pounds.’

‘Done. See, you’re already getting in the English spirit!’

They shook on it, and Myka began to think that this trip might be just the distraction she needed.


	2. Bloody Americans

For Myka, their trip so far had been both fascinating and intensely irritating. Her tour group consisted of Pete, Sam, one of their football buddies and two other girls. One was going out with the footballer, and they seemed to be treating the trip like a romantic getaway. The way their tongues were almost constantly entwined was uncomfortable for everyone to watch, but made Myka feel particularly awkward in the presence of Sam. He wasn’t displaying any outward reaction, but had kept up his silent treatment towards Myka ever since they’d landed. The final member of the group had clearly heard news of their break up and was taking the opportunity to spend the entire trip flirting with him.

Then there was Pete. Pete was Myka’s assigned ‘buddy’ on the trip. At first she’d been annoyed at the insinuation that she, a mature sixteen year old, couldn’t handle walking around few monuments unsupervised. Then she walked around a few museums with Pete and realised that perhaps she wasn’t the one who needed the buddy. Pete touched _everything_. He’d promised to be on his best behaviour for this tour of the Natural History Museum, but she wasn’t counting on it.

‘Look, Myka – dinosaurs!’

The dinosaur skeleton in the atrium was pretty cool, but Myka’s attention was immediately caught up by the gorgeous architecture of the huge building. Through one of the big arches round the outside of the room she saw more dinosaur reconstructions and figured that’s where their group would find themselves first. But then Pete saw something he found even more exciting.

‘Mykes, look! Hot British girls!’

She followed his gaze to the sea of navy blue across the hall.

‘They’re all in uniforms! _Fancy_ hot British girls!’

‘All schools in England wear uniforms, Pete.’ Despite her correction, Myka thought this group did look particularly wealthy. Other schools in the large hall were dressed simply in matching coloured sweaters and dark pants. This group had navy blazers with gold braid on the lapels, matching ties, plaid skirts, socks that came up to their knees and shiny dark brown shoes. She wondered what it would be like to wear exactly the same as all the other girls in her class. It would have probably have solved some of her problems in middle school, she thought.

Pete nudged her.

‘Hey! Earth to Myka. Your first wingman challenge, if you choose to accept it, is to help me get one of their numbers. Don’t wanna be picky, but you get bonus points and my eternal respect if you get that one there.’ Myka grabbed his arm.

‘Pete, it’s rude to point.’ After ascertaining that no-one in the party had noticed, she checked out the object of his desire. Tall-ish, with long dark hair and a skirt several inches shorter than most of the other girls. Of course. Suddenly, the girl turned and noticed them looking at her. Myka flushed and turned to escape through one of the arches, dragging Pete behind her.

This museum was one of Myka’s favorites of their trip, but her classmates were yet again being absolutely insufferable. Feeling like she couldn’t bear another second of it, she mumbled something about going to the bathroom and escaped down the hall. She thought she’d maybe check out the butterfly exhibit she’d seen in a room off the main entrance, but before she’d gotten any further she heard a commotion behind her.

‘Ah, man!’ she heard Pete exclaim. Taking a split second to turn and survey the model orang-utan which had clattered to the floor, she made a swift exit round the corner and hid behind one of the displays. She leaned against a wall in relief and closed her eyes as the galleries quietened and the sounds of their teacher’s irascible yells hit her ears. Eventually the noise began to subside and the visitors resumed their viewing of the exhibits. Knowing exactly what kind of atmosphere she’d be returning to, Myka decided to remain where she was for a little while.  
As she began reading the large poster displays around her, she was taken aback by a voice speaking next to her.

‘Bloody Americans.’

She looked up, surprised to see the girl in the fancy uniform that Pete had been drooling over. With no idea how to respond to that comment, she paused and took in the girl close up. She was a little shorter than Myka but held herself with way more confidence. Not a single strand of hair was out of place, and perfectly lined dark eyes stood out against her flawless porcelain skin. This was the kind of girl who shouldn’t be giving Myka the time of day, but those piercing eyes still seemed to be demanding conversation.

‘Um…hi?’ Great response, Myka. Really good job. She desperately cast around for something else to say and prayed she wasn’t going red, but for once her seemingly cool conversational partner was the one to blush. Not the bright tomato shade that Myka was all too often afflicted with, but two delicate pink spots which suddenly appeared on either side of her face.

‘Oh, bollocks. That’ll teach me to use insults as conversation starters. I do apologise. I just cannot understand the kind of idiocy displayed by that prat back there.’

Completely out of her depth, Myka managed only a strangled ‘hmm’ which when out of her mouth sounded way more uptight than she’d intended it. Although to be fair, this girl was digging herself into a fairly big hole, and was beginning to realize it.

‘Shit. Shit, you know him, don’t you? I remember now, I saw you with him earlier when he was pointing at us. I’ve managed to insult you and your entire nation in less than two minutes, and probably your best friend as well. I’m going to stop talking.’

Myka, who was well experienced in foot-in-mouth syndrome, wanted to reassure her somehow.

‘That’s, um, that’s Pete. He is my friend, but he is also a... prat?’

‘Do you not have that word in America? What a pity for you. I find it most wonderfully descriptive in situations like this.’

‘I’ve read it in Harry Potter, but I never heard anyone actually use it before.’ She felt a strange surge of excitement at meeting someone – even a total stranger –who was actually initiating a discussion about their cultural differences. One of the main reasons Myka had wanted to come on this trip was to immerse herself in a new culture, and the fact that this girl had the most beautiful British accent made it all the more interesting.

‘Well, you’ve read the books instead of just watching the films, so it seems there’s hope for America yet.’

She felt that she should maybe be offended on behalf of her country, but couldn’t help smirking at the thought of a certain someone who considered movies a suitable substitute for book reading. It seemed she'd met a fellow book nerd.

‘So, how are you enjoying England?’

‘Uh… it’s kinda amazing. I mean, I never left Colorado before so just being in another country is cool, but all the landmarks are awesome too. We’re doing the Tower of London tomorrow, then the London Eye on Sat-.’

‘Myka Bering!’ She jumped and turned as she heard her name snapped from right behind her, feeling suddenly guilty and not entirely sure why.

‘Why aren’t you with your partner? Get back to the main hall. After the latest fiasco we’ll be touring the gallery as a group.’

Myka took in the stormy look on his face and knew she had about ten seconds to get out of there. Her unexpected conversational streak cut short, she turned back to the girl who had her hand outstretched.

‘It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Myka Bering.’ Myka shook her hand, feeling slightly foolish at the formality of the goodbye.

‘Cool. Um. Same. I mean… I gotta go, sorry, bye.’

This time she was the one to blush, and chastised herself for almost knocking over an exhibit herself as she hurried after her teacher. She sighed internally at the prospect of returning to her tour group, but was pleasantly surprised when they arrived. Pete, having been deemed worthy of a chaperone, was standing glumly in wait for Professor Nielsen.

‘Miss Bering, as you no longer have a partner, you’ll be touring the museum with Miss Leena.’

Myka gladly went to stand beside their serene young classroom assistant and was thankful she wouldn’t have to suffer Sam’s rudeness or Pete’s clumsiness any longer. She spent a much less eventful hour in the museum and was in a rare state of relaxation when, on the way out the crowded doorway into the street, she felt a poke on her upper arm. She turned and looked into familiar eyes.

‘Hello again, Myka.’

It was her again – her class were filing out onto a bus just in front of theirs. Myka noticed they were all girls. She also noticed Pete trying to edge his way towards her side of the group, but Professor Nielsen was having none of it.

‘Hey. Sorry, hi.’

‘I see you have to go, but if you have any spare time and would like to see London from a more local perspective – it would be fun to show someone around.’

As Myka began to be swept along by the group pushing their way forward, the girl smiled and pressed a white piece of card into her hand. She gave an awkward wave back as she boarded the bus, slipping the card into her pocket without looking at it.

When she was seated back on the bus – thanks to Miss Leena, next to Pete instead of Sam – he turned to her.

‘You know that girl?!’

‘I wouldn’t say I knew her. We just met in the gallery.’

‘Please tell me you got her number.’

‘Why would I have the number of a strange girl I just met?’ She could almost feel the proof of her lie burning in her pocket, but was certain that for some reason, the card had been meant for her use only.

Pete slapped a palm to his forehead and sunk down a little in his seat.

‘Worst. Wingman. Ever.’


	3. Just Do It

After they left the museum, it was time to head back to the hostel for the evening. One of the things that surprised Myka about this trip was how close together everything was. Of all the places they’d visited so far, they’d not been on the bus for more than half an hour each time. This meant she only had twenty minutes to wonder about the card sitting in her pocket – or rather, the person who’d given it to her. There couldn’t be too much information on the card itself, but the act of giving it to her spoke volumes. What kind of person who’s still in school carries cards with them? Myka remembers being about eleven years old when kids in her class started getting cell phones. Numbers were passed around on torn scraps of paper, or written in sparkly ink in tiny notebooks designed especially for the task. As someone who’d not gotten one until high school, she’d missed that trend and had just saved numbers directly to her phone. Nowadays of course, people hardly asked for your number at all. Everything was done over Facebook.

So this girl, whoever she was, either met a lot of people for business purposes or was a little eccentric. Either way, Myka found herself very intrigued.

The problem with living in the hostel was that there was very little privacy. She slept in a dorm room with five other girls, and the bathrooms were communal. Everyone hung out in the common room in their free hours, and they ate together in the cafeteria. For a person who’d been locking herself away for the past month, being around people 24/7 was quite exhausting. 

Myka had always been a slow eater, but today she slowed even further so she was one of the last few left in the room. She could feel Pete getting fidgety next to her – he liked to practically inhale his food so he could run off to get a turn at the games machines in the common room.

‘You can go next door, Pete. I’ll be done soon.’

‘You sure?’

‘Yeah, go ahead. You better be kicking Sam’s butt by the time I get back.’ Pete saluted. He was the only mutual friend she and Sam had, and he’d taken their break up pretty well considering he’d effectively had to pick a side. He’d tried to remain neutral but when it hadn’t worked out and he’d stuck by Myka, Sam had made it clear that they were no longer friends. Considering they still played on the same football team, it was harder for Pete to avoid him than Myka, and she really appreciated his continuous support. 

Which was why she felt especially bad for hiding this from him. 

The cafeteria was finally free of anyone who’d take any interest in her, so she pulled out the card she’d been itching to take a look at since it had been slipped into her hand. She turned it over, and was for a moment a little underwhelmed. The plain white card had black and gold font in a fancy script, but was still just a name and phone number. She scolded herself. What more had she been expecting?

‘Helena G. Wells’ – so that was the girl’s name. It didn’t disappoint. Again, Myka wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it suited her somehow. It was distinguished. She noticed the initials, and hoped that the girl – Helena, she knew her name now – appreciated her namesake. Was she the kind of person who read classics? Was her naming intentional? 

Why had Helena started talking to her? She said she’d like to show a foreigner round town. But she hadn’t known Myka was a foreigner when she’d first spoken to her. Or had she? She said she’d seen her with Pete, and she knew Pete was American. Had it slipped her mind? Or was this some kind of wind up? Was someone from her class behind it? She wished she was less suspicious about this kind of thing, but she’d seen less fortunate people than herself taken in by cruel tricks like this. She’d always remained pretty invisible at school, but in the last few weeks she’d been the subject of much gossip. Sam had a lot of friends. Was this some kind of revenge prank?

Or, she reasoned, it could be that someone found you interesting and wants to talk to you. They’d seemed to be getting on pretty well before she’d had to leave. She was seriously curious about Helena. Perhaps it was mutual. Could this simply be how extroverted people made friends? Making friends did not come easily to Myka. She had some, sure – but she didn’t remember making them. Her class hadn’t changed much since she was in kindergarten, and it was divided into people she liked, people she didn’t and people she was indifferent to. 

Making a new friend in a foreign country – now that would be exciting. That could be the kind of adventure Pete had been talking about on the plane. She felt a twang of guilt again. 

There was only one way to find out the answers to her questions. However, to call the number on the card was easier said than done. Myka was historically not great on the telephone. She avoided answering if she knew someone else was home to pick it up, and the only people who ever called her mobile were her friends and her mother. Calling someone else was even harder. Especially someone you didn’t know. I mean, how on earth did you start that conversation? Myka was historically awful at starting conversations with strangers.

Tracy would know. Tracy was always making friends with strange people she met at parties. But she couldn’t call Tracy. Aside from the totally inconvenient time difference, her sister was pretty useless about giving advice on social situations and Myka knew exactly how the conversation would go. She’d be harassed about whether it was a boy, and who it was that she wanted to call, and what kind of person didn’t just use Facebook these days? Then when pressed to answer the actual question about how to call someone, her response would inevitably be ‘I don’t know, you just do it.’ 

Just do it. That’s what Tracy would say. Myka had discovered that in fact for most social situations, that was the only option. You couldn’t really prepare for them, especially when you had absolutely no idea what the other person would do or say. This was why Myka tended to avoid them at all costs. 

She got up and peered round the door of the common room, seeing that Pete was in line for one of the arcade machines. She had plenty of time. 

After taking out her phone, it remained un-dialed for a few minutes. She might not be able to prepare the whole conversation, but she could prepare her opening line. When she’d decided that starting with her name in her accent would be enough and then Helena could take over – she’d led all the conversation so far, after all – she dialed the number, making sure that every digit was correct.

Then she closed her eyes, wound up every ounce of courage she possessed, and hit the call button.

Silence.

Then a smooth electronic voice began talking. 

‘No local Buzzline networks have been detected. Please upgrade your Buzzline account to access overseas roaming services.’

Damn her father. Always money saving, he’d hunted out the cheapest contracts he could find for her and her sister’s phones. Ordinarily this suited Myka perfectly. She didn’t use her phone to call people much anyway, and had more minutes and texts than she knew what to do with. Unfortunately, her father had not considered foreign travel and on this continent, her phone was pretty much useless. 

Her instinctive first feeling was of relief, as she always felt when someone didn’t answer the phone, or the connection was busy. But after a few seconds an unfamiliar feeling crept in over it. Disappointment. This wasn’t a call to some strange book dealer her father wanted her to check something with. Despite her nerves, she’d actually wanted Helena to answer.

This realization emboldened Myka. Something about this girl was so intriguing that she’d actually wanted to have a telephone conversation. She’d spent two hours almost obsessing over a total stranger. There was a mystery surrounding Helena, and even if that mystery was simply why she’d taken interest in Myka, she wanted to find out. 

Unfortunately she’d have to wait until tomorrow. Already beginning to formulate her plan, she slipped her phone and the card carefully into her pocket and went to join her classmates.


	4. Telephone Box

As interesting as the Tower of London was, Myka found herself getting more and more jittery as the tour progressed. Usually she prided herself on her patience, but not today. Today she had somewhere to be.

They were scheduled to spend an hour shopping after their tour in which she hoped to find a call box, but she knew that their time would be cut short should they run over schedule.  As Professor Nielsen called yet again for them to stand still and be quiet for head count, the mixture of nerves and impatience coursing through her made her want to scream. 

As Pete made to sneak away to speak to his friend in a different group, she grabbed his hood to stop him and failed to be impressed when he turned his anguished puppy eyes on her.

‘Mykes, what was that for?’

‘Is it _really_ that difficult to stay still for sixty seconds?!’

‘I just needed a word with Jesse, that’s all!’

‘It can’t wait a minute? Stay!’ she hissed. Too late, she realized she was raising her voice and had attracted the attention of the people nearest them. Including…

‘Well, we can see who wears the pants in that relationship,’ Sam snarked from behind them, and Myka had to grab Pete’s arm this time in an attempt to stop him launching himself at her ex-boyfriend.

‘ _Pete_ ,’ she hissed through gritted teeth. ‘Not. Worth it.’

‘They’re not denying it, guys!’ Sam crowed. This time it was Myka’s turn to be provoked, and she gave him a withering look.

‘Grow up, Sam.’

The group around him laughed and Myka flushed, wishing she’d kept her mouth shut. She’d been dealing with these people all her life and she knew that the best way to deal with them was to keep her head down. Her mistake was overestimating Sam. She wasn’t used to minding her words around him – the person she used to be able to share everything with.

When it was finally established that they were all present, they headed to a tourist shopping district – stall after stall emblazoned with Union Jack flags and ‘I Heart London’ motifs. They were warned to stay with their partners and then let loose on the little parade of stores. As soon as everyone else was occupied, Myka got Pete to hang back.

‘Hey, Pete. I need to call my Mom. Can you help me find a call box?’

‘What’s wrong with your cell? You can borrow mine if you need to. Why’d you need to call her?’

After several hours tossing and turning last night, she had her excuse fully prepared.

‘I promised to call every few days, but my phone doesn’t work in London so I need to let her know. It’d cost loads to call America from your cell, I’d rather spend my own money.’

‘Okay, call box it is. Hey, you have to take a picture of me in it!’

It turned out that not all London call boxes were red with glass panes like the souvenir shops led them to believe, and they passed several boring gray boxes as they made their way up the street. But grateful that Pete was giving up his time to come with her, she kept going until they found a red one. The search was actually fun, and she felt suddenly ecstatic at being able to explore the city alone with her best friend after a week of snide remarks. When they finally located it, Pete handed his phone to a local stallholder and pulled her into the box. As they crammed awkwardly into the tiny space and he struggled to put his arm around her, she heard herself laugh out loud for the first time in weeks.

When several photos had been taken and Pete headed over to check out the stalls, she felt the grin slide off her face and the familiar mixture of apprehension and guilt rose within her again. Next thing she knew, she was alone in the call box with a handful of change and nothing else standing in her way. She paused. All her effort, concentration and momentum had been focused on getting here. Now she had to get up the courage to make the call all over again.

It helped that she could see Pete waving at her a few feet away, trying on an ‘I Heart London’ cap. She couldn’t stall while he could see her. She wouldn’t be stalling a conversation to her mother.

Turning slightly so he at least couldn’t see her face – Pete seemed to have an irritatingly perceptive sense of when something was going on – she fed the coins into the machine as slowly as she could. Feeling the flock of butterflies set up residence in her stomach again, she lifted the shiny black receiver as per the instructions and dialed the number. She had the card propped up in front of her just in case, but she already knew the digits off by heart.

As the dial tone sounded in her ear she gripped the phone tightly, waiting… then it started ringing. On the tenth one, when Myka seriously thought her heart would beat out of her chest, she heard the receiver being lifted.

‘Hello?’

Myka let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

‘Um, hi… it’s Myka. I don’t know if you remember me, we met-‘

‘At the Natural History Museum. Of course I remember. I was hoping you’d phone me.’

She really did have the most wonderful voice, Myka thought – one that really couldn’t be more English if it tried. It was well spoken and elegant, but somehow strong and confident as well. She’d heard many English accents on her trip so far – some of them similarly stereotypical, some of them strange and foreign sounding – but none of them compared to this one.

‘Myka?’

And if possible, it was even nicer to hear that voice wrap itself delicately around the syllables of her own name… and then she realized, crap, she wasn’t saying anything!

‘Hi, sorry, I’m still here!’

‘So, did you enjoy the Tower of London?’

‘It was really good. I mean, my class was pretty annoying but the Tower was really interesting.’

‘You should go for a night tour if you’re ever here in winter. My brother and I went last year and made up ghost stories for the entire trip, it was marvelous.’

‘That sounds awesome. I couldn’t do that with my sister, she’d freak out.’

‘Do you like ghost stories?’

‘I like all stories. I mean, mysteries are probably my favorite, but I like supernatural stuff too. Dracula’s really good. And the War of the Worlds.’

‘You seem a girl after my own heart – although my love for HG Wells was somewhat forcibly encouraged. My father is a fan – you can imagine he took great delight in naming me.’

‘Mine too! He read me HG Wells all the time when I was little. I got named for Shakespeare though – my middle name is Ophelia.’ Normally this wasn’t something she liked to admit, but Helena’s father sounded exactly like her dad. She’d get it.

‘Ah, Hamlet. Not one of my favorites, if truth be told. What about Myka?’

‘Myka was after my grandfather.’

She was eager to turn the conversation back round to Shakespeare – no-one else these days had an opinion on Shakespeare, even Tracy had escaped any interest – but she was startled by a knock on the side of the booth. Pete was tapping his wrist, and she checked her watch. She still had a few minutes.

‘Sorry Helena, I have to go soon. I’m in a call box because my cell doesn’t work but we’re going back to the hostel soon.’

‘A shame. Did you think about my offer of a more private tour?’

Their conversation had been so easy, so instantaneous, that she’d forgotten the reason she’d called. But she no longer felt the need to question Helena’s motives – for the first time ever, here was someone her age who seemed to truly understand her. Or at the very least, understood old literature.

The thought of spending more time away from her tour group was blissful. The idea of being able to freely explore London – to not be restricted by tour guides and schedules and teachers – was exciting and somewhat scary. And the prospect of spending time with Helena was… she wasn’t sure what it was. She wanted to, more than she’d wanted anything in a while. But she also wanted to not get in gigantic trouble.

‘I’d really love to, but we don’t get much free time out. And when we do we have to stay with our partners.’

‘Let me guess… Pete the prat?’

What had seemed so appropriate at the museum yesterday somehow stung this time round, after he’d been so great about everything.

‘He’s not really a prat. I mean, sometimes he’s an idiot and I need to punch him in the arm, but he is my best friend.’ She paused, thinking…

‘And he’ll probably totally give me an alibi to hang out with you once he gets over the fact I didn’t give him your number.’

‘Oh, really?’

‘Apparently he has a weakness for British girls.’

‘Duly noted.’

‘I’m already the worst wingman ever, but when he finds out I actually did get your number he might just fire me. Which would be a good thing, actually. Sorry, I’m talking too much.’ She felt her face begin to burn, but Helena didn’t seem to mind her dorky ramblings.

‘Do you have free time in the evenings?’

‘Sometimes we go out to eat but most nights we just hang out in the hostel.’

‘So I could call you, if you gave me your mobile number?’

Myka hadn’t even considered that solution. She mentally thanked the heavens that this was a phone call and that Helena couldn’t see her growing embarrassment. Pete rapped on the door again and she held up a finger as she rattled off her number. She checked her watch again, heart beating faster as she realized that head count was in three minutes.

‘I really have to go now.’

‘I’ll call you later. I’m glad you phoned, Myka.’

She couldn’t help smiling at Helena using her name again, at the excitement of having made a new friend.

‘Me too. Bye.’

She hung up, went out to join Pete, and they started rushing back the way they’d come.

 ‘Jeez, how long does it take to call your mom? Look what I got you!’

He passed her a keychain with a red call box on the end, an exact replica of the one she’d just been in. She suddenly felt overwhelmingly guilty.

‘Hey, Pete. There’s something-’

‘Tell me when we get back, okay? If I’m late one more time I’ll spend the whole trip handcuffed to Nielsen.’

She felt something buzzing against her hip and hastily pulled it out. Her phone didn’t recognize the number, but she did – and she couldn’t help smiling.

‘Hello? Hi. Yeah, it works. Obviously.’

She was going red again. As they rounded the corner, they could see their small teacher in front of a large group of students, just starting the headcount.

‘Look, I really have to go or my teacher is going to kill me. Umm… around seven? Yeah, speak to you then.’

She hung up and started running across the square behind Pete as the whole group turned to look at them. Though she couldn’t hear over the noise of the busy street, she could tell that her classmates were whispering about them.

 _Great_ , she thought. The last thing she needed when she was maybe about to want some privacy was to become the subject of class gossip again.

Professor Nielsen’s bellows soon quieted them down, and they merely faced a glare and an eye roll as he gestured them into the group. As the headcount resumed Pete pointed at her and narrowed his eyes.

‘Okay, spill it. That was _so_ not your mom.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a little while since the last chapter - life keeps happening. Stay tuned for another face-to-face Bering and Wells meeting, coming soon in Chapter Five!


	5. Perfectly Clear

‘So, let me get this straight. Hot British Girl walked up and actually started a conversation with you, and you didn’t even ask for her number. Then she straight up handed it to you, without you even asking, and you didn’t tell me!’

‘Because she wanted to talk to _me_. We have a lot in common.’

‘But could you introduce me? And maybe, you know, lay the foundation for me? Not that I can’t totally work the ladies on my own, but…’

Myka considered her options. On the one hand, Helena didn’t seem to like Pete much. On the other hand, she really needed Pete on side if she was going to get to see Helena at all. And she’d shut him out a little the last month. She wanted some time to hang out with him too. She looked back at his puppy dog eyes with amusement.

‘Okay, fine.’

‘Really?’

‘I’ll introduce you. But don’t blame me if your famous American charm doesn’t work out.’

‘You don’t think she’s gonna like me, do you?’

‘She may have called you a prat when you were klutzing around in the museum.’

‘What’s a prat?’

‘An idiot.’

Pete swatted the air nonchalantly. Pretty much everyone thought him an idiot upon first meeting – including Myka, actually.

‘Minor setback. Hey, you want to up our little wager?’

‘If you insist.’

‘Ten more Great British pounds says I pull that particular girl.’

Myka stuck her hand out and they shook on it.

‘Hey – what’s her name, by the way?’

xxx

They arrived back at the hostel late and missed their dinner slot, so by the time they finally sat down it was twenty to seven. Myka stuffed down her dinner as quickly as she could, finishing at the same time as Pete for a change. She got back to the common room at seven pm exactly, just as her phone began to buzz in her pocket.

‘Hey,’ she greeted Helena, curling into a single chair in the corner by the bookshelf. Usually she hung out near the games machine so she could chat to Pete in between turns, but today she needed somewhere quieter.

‘Hello yourself. Is this a good time?’

‘Perfect.’

Usually Myka only spoke easily to people she knew well or talkative people who could carry the bulk of the discussion. Helena was neither familiar nor overly talkative, but thoughtful and clearly very intelligent. She asked the exactly the right questions that sparked easy conversation and soon they were jumping from topic to topic, eager to discuss everything all at once.

Hours passed in seemingly no time at all, and soon Miss Leena had come in and told them all to head up to their rooms. They didn’t have to go to bed at a specific time as long as they didn’t make too much noise, but Myka didn’t want to continue this conversation in earshot of the other girls in her room. It somehow seemed too personal – and she didn’t want them to ask who she was talking to.

‘I’m sorry Helena, I have to go now.’

‘Have you spoken to your friend? Is there any way I can see you again?’

‘Yeah, he really wants to meet you. He can be a little persistent, but he’ll back off if you’re not interested. He’s pretty great once you get to know him.’

‘Don’t worry. I’m well practiced in dealing with the Petes of the world.’

‘Cool. So… we’ll be on the London Eye tomorrow morning at eleven, but afterwards we get to explore for an hour or two and find our own lunch. We could meet up then?’

‘That sounds marvelous.’

‘Okay, I’ll see you there around twelve? We should be done by then.’

‘I’m very much looking forward to it. See you tomorrow.’

Myka hung up the phone and made her way upstairs to her room, grinning with excitement. Not only had she had a completely not awkward phone conversation, but she’d definitely made a new friend! Perhaps when she went back to America, they could be penpals or something. Did people still have penpals these days? They probably just emailed.

The next day she had to get up extra early to make sure she got a turn in the shower. She was always up early anyway, but it was a surprise for her to discover how early the girls in her class got up to do their hair and makeup. Learning that their ambitions for the trip were much the same as Pete’s, she despaired of her generation. Was she the only person in her entire class not looking to get a date while she was here?

It seemed not. When they got to the London Eye a French boys school was in line in front of them, and half the girls in their group practically swooned. _For heaven’s sake_ , she thought. It wasn’t like any of the guys were even that good looking. They just had accents and spoke broken English, which was apparently ‘adorable’.

‘What’s up, Bering? Not looking for a bit of French action?’

She was jostled as Sam and his football cronies appeared beside her. Probably sore that they’d lost all the girls’ attention, she thought.

‘Don’t worry, I’m sure your boyfriend won’t mind. Will you, Pete? I mean, it’s not like he’s getting any.’

Myka flushed scarlet, and Pete had had enough. He turned and squared up to Sam, who looked several inches down at him and smirked.

‘Listen, dickweed. I know you’re a little hurt right now because my _best friend_ finally realized she’s too good for you. And you’re on an ego trip cos you know if I punch you Myka would have to put up with your slimy ass for the rest of the trip, which would just be cruel. So that’s not gonna happen. But just know that if you keep making your bitchy little comments, I will ‘accidentally’ hit you as soon as we get back on that football field. Where. It. Hurts.’

He went back to Myka, who had not turned around and was still looking embarrassed at being the center of attention.

‘You know he was just trying to provoke you, right?’

‘Yeah, it worked.’

‘Thanks, though. For not punching him.’ She gave him a grateful smile.

‘Any time.’

They finally got to the front of the line and filed into one of the glass pods. As they slowly began their ascent, Myka grabbed one of the information sheets Professor Nielsen was handing out. She’d read up a little on London before she came and already knew most of the facts on the sheet, but it was something to do until their pod got a little higher.

She became so absorbed in her reading that she didn’t notice their entire class fall silent until Pete nudged her.

‘Hey, Mykes. _It’s her_!’

Myka looked up. Her? Her who?

It took her a second to recognize the girl standing in the center of the pod. In her jeans and fitted red top, she looked very different from the schoolgirl she’d been last time Myka had seen her. However, there was no mistaking the perfectly sleek hair and striking eyes, which were already trained on Myka’s as if she’d been willing her to look up.

Helena gave her an almost undiscernible smile and turned to Professor Nielsen.

‘I do apologize, Sir. I got separated from my class and when I asked the people working here, they said I was just in time to go up.’ She was looking around with an expression of utmost sincerity. ‘I think they got the wrong group,’ she added unnecessarily.

The professor grumbled a little about ‘incompetent fools’, but since they were now a hundred feet up in the air, he couldn’t really do much.

‘Okay, nothing to see here. Experience of a lifetime, people! Stop staring at the girl. Direct your attention back to the windows.’

Quiet chatter resumed again, but everyone was still distracted by the stranger in the room. Ignoring their teacher, a group soon gathered around Helena – most of them male. Myka felt herself growing tense as she saw _him_ walk right up to her and hold out his hand.

‘Hi. Sam Martino.’

Helena returned a charming smile and shook.

‘Helena Wells. Nice to meet you.’

‘The pleasure is all mine, I must say.’

The group introduced themselves and Myka grew hot as she watched Helena charm her tormentors. Sam looked over and smiled when he saw her glaring.

‘Hey, Helena. It’d be really awesome to get an English person’s guide to London. How’d you fancy hanging out with us?’

Helena had followed his eyes and glanced over at Myka, who by this point had turned away and was staring resolutely out the window.

‘If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather just enjoy the ride.’ She started walking away, but Sam threw an arm round her shoulders.

‘That’s exactly what we’re all about. Trust me – this is the fun side of the pod.’

‘I don’t consider it fun to be manhandled. Let go of me, please.’

A sullen look appeared on Sam’s face as he released her, and she walked away to the mutter of ‘stuck up English bitch’. Ignoring the comment, she stood next to Myka and waited patiently until her eyes were met. Aware that the entire class had been avidly watching the action, Helena held out her hand.

‘Helena Wells. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.’

Myka fought a grin and shook her hand.

‘Myka Bering.’

‘I’ve never been on the London Eye before. I hope you don’t mind me joining you for the ride?’

Helena raised an eyebrow, and Myka recognized the double meaning in the question.

‘Not at all.’ She felt a not-so-subtle nudge in her arm, and gestured to Pete next to her. ‘This is my friend Pete Lattimer.’ He stepped forward eagerly.

‘Hey, great to meet you.’

Myka was careful not to say anything that would make anyone guess Helena had deliberately gatecrashed. She didn’t need to worry too much as they all soon became immersed in admiring the spectacular view, taking photos and looking for the places that Professor Nielsen said could be seen from the Eye. Helena proved very helpful in the last task, and by the time the ride finished they had checked off every landmark on the sheet.

After they’d disembarked and Professor Nielsen had dismissed everyone, the three of them wandered away to have lunch and explore. Helena looked up at Myka, chewing her lip slightly.

‘I hope it was alright, doing that. It was quite presumptuous of me.’

Myka smiled shyly.

‘It’s okay, honestly. It’s good to see you. It was just surprising, that’s all. And then Sam started being such an ass to you…’

‘You did look rather upset when he came over to me. I thought perhaps he was your boyfriend until he started acting the oaf, and I realized you’d probably have better taste.’

Myka cleared her throat.

‘Yeah, about that…’

‘Ah, shit. Please tell me I haven’t put my foot in it again. Do you like him? I mean, I’m sure he’s also very lovely when you get to know him.’

‘He’s my ex. I broke up with him last month and he’s been pretty awful ever since.’

‘Yeah, he’s a gigantic A-hole,’ Pete declared. ‘You need to work on your poker face though, Mykes. If you’re going to look that pissed every time he hits on a pretty girl, he’s gonna think he’s making you jealous.’ He paused. ‘He isn’t, is he? Because seriously, you cannot still want to kiss that smarmy face.’

‘I wasn’t jealous…’ As soon as the words left her mouth she realized they had been a lie. She _had_ been jealous. Totally jealous. Not because of Sam, but for a reason that she didn’t want to put her finger on just yet. ‘I just… I hate the way he’s constantly trying to get a rise out of me.’

‘He’ll get over it soon. He’s just annoyed that you ended it and his little ego got bruised.’

They wandered along the street for a while, their large class group dwindling as different groups split off into restaurants. Not wanting to eat with any of the others, they carried on walking and Helena was finally able to take on her role showing them around the city. She took them away from the tourist hotspots to a small traditional café where Pete could order a huge full English breakfast. When it (and the girls' slightly smaller portions) arrived, the conversation resumed and Myka found herself sitting back and listening as Pete quizzed Helena about her life. On the phone they’d talked about their common interests more than their personal lives, and she was actually pretty interested in hearing the answers to his inquisitive questions.

‘What about you, Helena? Any douchey ex-boyfriends in your closet?’

‘Not really, no. I go to a boarding school for girls and they load us with so much homework and extra-curricular stuff that there isn’t much time for outside socializing.’

‘Boarding school? Like, you sleep there?’

‘I do, yes.’

‘Man, that’s gotta suck.’

Myka privately agreed. Although in books the girls all had sisterly relationships and a strong sense of school spirit, she didn’t think she could stand never being truly alone. A week into living with her classmates was already getting on her nerves.

‘It’s okay. They don’t keep us locked up. When we’re sixteen we can go out whenever we have free time, as long as we’re back before curfew. It’s the summer holidays now though, and it is nice not having to sign out before I leave the house.’

‘Is it like the movies? Like, sneaking out at night and pranking the teachers and having midnight snacks and pillow fights?’

Helena rolled her eyes and Myka punched him in the shoulder.

‘Ow!’

‘Why is it always boys who ask the pillow fight question?’

When their food arrived Pete became unusually quiet. Myka wondered if for once he was making an effort to keep his mouth shut as he shoveled in forkfuls of sausage, bacon and beans – but when he came up with a new question, she was proved wrong. They both grimaced as they got an unwelcome view of half chewed toast.

‘Do you have to wear those fancy outfits all the time?’

Myka rolled her eyes.

‘Pete, can you please close your-‘

She was cut off by Helena, who answered smoothly.

‘Only during class hours, or if we’re out representing the school. We can wear whatever we like the rest of the time.’ She raised an eyebrow at Pete. ‘Except for pillow fights, when obviously there’s regulation lingerie.’

He spluttered a mouthful of coffee onto his plate and Helena wrinkled her nose in distaste. Myka smirked. Her chances of winning the newest addition to their bet seemed pretty good.

It had been a pretty good trip. After lunch they’d walked and talked, checked out some stores and taken pictures of London that wasn’t plastered in flags and postcard stands. Eventually they made their way back to where they were to meet the group, and paused a little way away to say goodbye.

‘Are you free at all tomorrow?’

Myka consulted their schedule.

‘We’re free for an hour after Madame Tussauds.’

‘Oh, brilliant. While we’re having the English experience I need to introduce you both to proper tea. There’s a nice shop nearby, and while we’re there I can educate this one-’ she gestured to Pete – ‘on why rugby is superior to that wimpy equivalent you call football.’

‘Yeah, like that’s ever gonna happen,’ Pete scoffed.

As Myka looked for a pen and paper for Helena to write directions on, he decided to make his move.

‘Soooo… now you’re not in school anymore and you’ve got so much free time on your hands, what’s your stance on dating Americans?’

Myka paused and looked up in time to see him put on his most winning smile. Helena didn’t respond as she took the offered notebook and quickly scrawled down directions to the tea shop.

As she passed the book back, her dark eyes fixed Myka’s intently.

‘I’m open to the idea.’

As Myka watched her walk away, she was almost oblivious to Pete’s victory dance taking place beside her. All she could think about was the feeling that had been teasing her all day, and had suddenly become perfectly clear. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your comments and patience with this story! I made sure to get this chapter in before I have to go away for work - the next one should be up in a few weeks. 
> 
> Apologies for all the Sam - hopefully his little conversation with Pete will get him to back off a bit!


	6. Confusion

Holy crap. She was falling for a girl.

Actually, she was pretty sure she’d already fallen for the girl, and had just failed to notice it until right now.

Holy _crap_.

She was going to need a minute to process this.

Actually, she was going to need a very long time to process this.

‘Hello? Earth to Myka?’

She blinked and stepped back from the hand that Pete was waving frantically in front of her face, realizing that she’d still been staring at the corner Helena had disappeared round at least a minute ago.

‘Look, everyone’s here. Time to go.’

On the way home she wanted to be left alone, but Pete was in an annoyingly talkative mood.

‘Thinking about how you’re totally gonna lose our bet?’

When she didn’t respond, he poked her in the arm until she sighed and turned to face him.

‘Huh?’

‘C’mon, Mykes! Didn’t you hear what she said? She’s totally up for it!’

‘She said she was open to dating Americans, Pete. She might not specifically mean you.’

‘Of course she meant me. I’m like, totally American. The all-American package. Besides, she knew what I meant. If she wanted to reject me she would have said no.’ He turned to look at her. ‘I think someone’s just a sore loser.’

‘Not true.’

‘So why are we not dancing in the aisle? I mean, aside from the fact we’d probably get thrown off the bus. But come on. I’d be happy for you if you got to make out with some hot English dude!’

 _You haven’t made out with her yet,_ she wanted to say. But didn’t, because she realized she was sounding more and more bitter with each comment and she didn’t want to be. This wasn’t her, not usually. But every time he talked about Helena like that she just felt so _irritated_ and she couldn’t seem to help what came out of her mouth.

She couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it earlier. It was obvious now. She remembered similar feelings from when she’d first realized she liked Sam. For a while she’d noted her favorite things about him, the things that made up the Sam that she would grow to love. But she didn’t even realize that she was noticing them. Not until all the pieces of the puzzle were complete, and it had suddenly hit her that _this_ was what having a crush was.

She felt almost stupid this time around. It was exactly the same. She’d been noticing these things about Helena from the moment she met her – things she barely registered in other people. Things like the shine of her hair when she tossed it back, the way her lips moved to create that awe-inspiring accent, the reassuring fact that she too chewed her nails when she was anxious. She was hyper-aware of Helena’s entire presence, but she was only just now realizing it.

 

That evening she continued to be absent, chewing her dinner slowly as Pete chattered next to her. She was relieved when it was over and she could curl up by herself in the same chair she had the previous night. Although the common room was still loud, everyone was absorbed in their own conversations and activities and she was left alone with her thoughts. She chose a book from the shelves and turned pages at random, acting like she was reading instead of constantly glancing at the phone on the arm of her chair.

She didn’t even know why. Helena hadn’t said she’d call, and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted her to. Their previous conversation had been animated yet relaxed and easy, and she’d enjoyed it enormously. But now she knew what she felt, she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus on any topic until she had an answer. Had Helena meant her? She had been looking directly into Myka’s eyes. Not Pete’s. But then people made eye contact for loads of reasons. Had she just been imagining it? Misinterpreting the intensity of Helena’s stare just because, deep down, she wanted it to mean her?

Whatever the case, she knew she hadn’t imagined the fluttering in her stomach. Just thinking about Helena was bringing it back.

She really hoped Helena didn’t like Pete. She knew that was mean, but she really felt like she’d made a friend in the English girl. Even if she didn’t like Myka in that way, Myka still wanted that friendship and didn’t want to lose her to someone else. And she knew that if the two did get together, she’d have to hear every last detail from Pete because he liked to brag about his conquests. Usually she put up with it, even managed to be happy for him. But she knew she wouldn’t be able to if it was Helena.

Despite her reservations, she still felt disappointed when their curfew came round and her cell lay undisturbed on the arm of the chair. She followed her classmates upstairs and climbed straight into bed, glad that the confusion of the day was nearly over.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. She lay awake long after her roommates had gone to sleep, heart hammering as she started to consider the full extent of her current predicament.

She was attracted to a girl. Up to this point, her thoughts hadn’t lingered much beyond what it meant to fall for this specific girl. She’d been too preoccupied worrying about Pete and Helena to consider what this meant for her as a person. She was attracted to a _girl_.

What did that make her? She wasn’t gay. She didn’t think so, anyway. Then again, she didn’t think anyone with the kind of thoughts she had about Helena could exactly call themselves straight either. So did that make her bisexual?

She really did not want to have to tell her parents she was bisexual.

Maybe she’d never have to. The thought made her heart sink, but in less than a week she would probably never see Helena again. Then maybe she could keep being the perfectly ordinary straight girl she’d been for the last sixteen years of her life.

But what if it happened again? She almost growled in frustration, turned over for the fiftieth time and tried to will her mind into oblivion.

 

Two hours later she awoke with her head pounding, her eyes bleary and her hair frizzing out at all kinds of strange angles. Just what she needed when she was meeting the girl she now realized she wanted to impress. And crap. A whole nine hours had gone by and now she was going to have to face Pete and Helena again, when really she felt like she needed another whole day to figure out what was going on inside her head.

Pete was his usual jovial self when she emerged, stuffing a whole sausage into his mouth as she sat opposite him with a bowl of cereal.

‘Jeez, Mykes! You sleep in a bush or something? Cos that hair looks like… I dunno, some crazy octopus creature or something.’

She felt an involuntary shudder run down her spine as she glared at him.

‘Oops, sorry. My bad. Forgot you don’t like the O-word.’

‘Not what the glare was about, Pete.’ She paused. ‘Does it really look that bad?’

‘In the nicest possible way, you might maybe wanna stick it in a braid or something.’

When they left the hostel on their way out to Madame Tussauds it was braided, clipped and gelled into submission. With one less thing to worry about, she was quite looking forward to the waxwork museum.

For once Pete managed to navigate the entire exhibition without incident. She knew that behind the goofy exterior he was seriously perceptive, and by now he’d noticed there was something going on behind her quiet mood. He was still clowning around and cracking jokes, but was restrained enough that he didn’t cause any trouble. Myka appreciated his efforts to cheer her up without drawing unwelcome attention, and soon he’d achieved his mission of cracking a small but genuine smile. She almost managed to forget her latest troubles for a while.

However, as she left the museum they returned with such intensity that she felt a little sick. Her stomach twisted with a mixture of guilt, uncertainty and anticipation as she and Pete rounded a corner and a pale blue sign with a delicate teacup painted on it came into view.

‘A tea shop called ‘Darling’. How terribly British,’ Pete mocked in a shocking impersonation of the English accent. Her nerves twitching more with every step they took towards the tearoom, Myka didn’t reply.

When they entered the shop, Helena was already sitting at a beautifully fragile looking glass table with mismatching plush blue armchairs. She looked up with expectant eyes and then stood to greet them, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear as she waited for them to reach the table. Pete launched straight into conversation.

‘Hey, Helena! How’s it going?’

‘Very well, thank you Pete. Hello, Myka.’

‘Hi.’

Myka managed to get out a single syllable before her mind went blank, having seemingly lost all conversational ability. Luckily Pete started talking rapidly again and she was off the hook.

It turned out that tea shops did in fact serve more than just tea, and soon they were all seated around the small table with a gold edged teapot, matching cups and a plate of small cupcakes between them. Pete was laid back in his invitingly comfortable chair. Helena looked effortlessly elegant with her legs crossed, holding her saucer in one hand and teacup in the other – not with a finger sticking out, to Pete’s disappointment. Myka on the other hand felt completely unable to relax, and was perched rigidly on the edge of her chair with her hands fidgeting in her lap.

‘Won’t you have a cake, Myka? They really are lovely in here.’

She thanked Helena and gave her a small smile before concentrating much more than necessary on the extraction of her cake from its paper case. She suddenly had no idea how to interact with this girl. How had she done it before? How much eye contact had they made? How did she talk to other people she’d only recently met? Did she look at her when they weren’t talking? When they were talking, did she make constant eye contact or look away occasionally? She felt like she’d been changed from her automatic to manual setting, but hadn’t been given an instruction book.

She ended up feeling more awkward than she ever had in her life. She was struggling to look at Helena at all, instead feigning interest in the delicate font of the menu board, the view outside the window, Pete’s only-sometimes-funny jokes. She wanted to look more than anything, to engage and be entranced by the mannerisms that were so uniquely Helena as she told some story about tea. But she was scared that if she started looking she wouldn’t be able to stop, and then both Helena and Pete would be able to tell exactly what was going on in her head.

She could feel Helena looking at her when she was looking away. She knew she was acting strangely and she knew it was showing. So she made the surprisingly gargantuan effort to make some kind of casual eye contact for as long as she felt was _normal_ before glancing away again at anything other than Helena and feeling her skin grow hot. She wished her hair wasn’t so tightly tied back, leaving her face totally exposed with nowhere to hide.

After what seemed like hours but in reality was only twenty minutes, she could take no more self-imposed torture and excused herself to go to the bathroom. Only when safely in the stall did she relax, dropping her head into her hands and taking several deep breaths.

One thing was for certain. If there had been any chance of Helena liking her back, she’d totally blown it by acting like such an idiot.

She stayed in the stall for as long as she could, before heading to the sink and washing her hands extremely slowly. She then turned to face the doorway but remained rooted to the floor, knowing that her plausible reasons for still being in there were diminishing with each passing second. She couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever. She was going to have to face Helena again, if only for the remaining fifteen minutes before they had to say goodbye.

She finally took the two steps towards the door. As she reached for the handle it swung open, and she found herself face to face with Helena herself. She instinctively averted her eyes and felt herself blush red.

‘Hey, sorry, I was just going back in.’ She stepped past Helena to head back to their table.

‘Myka, wait.’

She stopped, turned around slowly and the door fell shut behind her. Confronted directly with nowhere else to look, she finally gave Helena the full attention she’d been wanting to all day. Concern was written all over the other girl’s face.

‘Are you okay?’

 _No_.

‘Yeah, of course. I mean, I’m fine. Didn’t get much sleep last night, that’s all.’

‘Are you sure? I don’t mean to keep on, but I feel like I’ve upset you. You’ve barely looked at me today.’

Of course she’d noticed. Myka had only known her a few days, but she’d already learned that there was no fooling Helena. She noticed everything.

‘I’m sorry if what I said made you uncomfortable.’

Myka knew she had two options. She could either deny it – probably unconvincingly – and the issue would be avoided, the awkwardness would continue and their friendship would be ruined. Or she could ask the question that had been bothering her all day. The question she was terrified to know the answer to, but that she knew would keep haunting her until she asked it.

‘What did you mean? When you said you were open to dating Americans. Was that…?’

Helena regarded her for a moment, and the anticipation was growing hard to bear.

‘I think you already know the answer.’

Myka shook her head and suddenly felt annoyed with the girl standing in front of her.

‘No. No, I really don’t. I mean, you said it and then you just walked off and I thought I knew but then Pete started going on about it and I wasn’t sure and then it all started going round in my head and now I’m just so _confused_.’

By the end of her sentence her voice was barely louder than a whisper as she struggled through the lump in her throat. She allowed a single sob to escape before she angrily wiped the tears from her face, then cleared her throat and fixed Helena with the most determined look she could muster.

‘I don’t even know what’s going on in my mind right now, let alone yours. So please stop talking in riddles and just give me an answer so I can at least _try_ to start sorting out this mess in my head.’

Helena was silent for a moment, looking slightly chastened by Myka’s outburst.

‘I’m sorry, Myka. I didn’t think. It’s been years since… I forget what a confusing time it can be.’ She took a step forwards and looked up with an expression of utmost sincerity.

‘I meant you.’

‘You meant me.’

That was all the reassurance she’d needed – just confirmation that she hadn’t imagined it. But Helena was still talking.

‘After our first conversation, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. When I happened across you again I knew I couldn’t let you go without giving you my number, and I can’t begin to describe how happy I was when you actually used it. You’re clever and fascinating and all in all, one of the loveliest people I’ve ever had the fortune to meet. I truly didn’t mean to upset you. It didn’t occur to me that you wouldn’t know.’

Myka looked at her in wonder, barely believing what she was hearing. Yes, she was still feeling more than a little overwhelmed. But knowing that Helena liked her - _really_ liked her – made her feel a hundred times lighter. She wanted to dance around the room.

‘So… what do you think?’

Helena now seemed almost shy, and Myka realized that she hadn’t actually said anything in return yet. Not really sure what you were supposed to say in this situation, she went with the first thought that came into her head.

‘I think you’re kinda beautiful.’

 ‘Just ‘kinda’?’ Her reply was mildly affronted. Myka laughed.

‘Really, really beautiful. Better?’

‘Much better. So, Myka Bering. Are we okay now?’

‘Yeah. No. Kind of. I mean, we’re good, but my brain’s still totally frazzled. So _I’m_ not fine, but _we’re_ fine.’ She sighed with frustration. ‘Am I making any sense?’

‘Perfect sense.’

She was glad Helena understood what she was talking about, because she herself was barely following her half-formed ramblings. One thought, however, was still right at the front of her mind.

‘Pete still thinks you meant him.’

‘Well, his question should have been more specific. What else could I have said? To answer any other way would have been a lie.’

Myka smiled again at the reminder that Helena Wells was open to dating _her_.

‘Still, I suppose I should go and let the man down.’

‘Can you not tell him yet? About… about me, I mean.’

‘Of course not. I think I’ll be going though, after I speak with him. Can I phone you this evening?’

‘I’d like that.’

‘Good.’

Helena stood on her toes and pressed a quick kiss to Myka’s cheek, causing an endearingly shy smile to form in its wake.

‘I’m looking forward to it.’


	7. Confession

Myka remained in the bathroom for a while, absent-mindedly stroking the invisible mark that Helena’s lips had left. In her ideal world, the two of them would spend the rest of the day in the shop talking over everything. But in reality she’d have to go back to dealing with her grumpy professor, irritating classmates, sour ex-boyfriend, and Pete. It seemed insane that right now she was more apprehensive about facing her best friend in the world than all of the others combined.

When she finally left the peaceful haven of the bathroom, she was glad that Pete didn’t seem too distressed at Helena’s rejection. As she approached the table he turned and pressed a fist to his heart.

‘Alas! The Pete-meister is foiled again by the charms of the cruel British maiden.’

The unexpected outburst earned him mutters of disapproval from nearby customers, and he dropped his voice to a hushed whisper.

‘Let’s get out of here. It’s a little _too_ English for my liking.’ She nodded and moved to leave but he stopped her, took hold of her forearms and studied her face.

‘Hey, you okay?’

She’d have to talk to him soon, but now wasn’t the time.

‘I’m fine. You’re right, let’s go.’

She knew he knew she was lying, but he didn’t call her out on it and they left the shop.

 

That afternoon was the Victoria and Albert Museum, and for the first time in his life Pete was as quiet as Myka. They made a somber pair as they wandered around the exhibits, Myka occasionally taking pictures of things that interested her but failing to get too enthusiastic. There was an unspoken awkwardness between them – both feeling it and shooting concerned glances at the other, but neither bringing it up. She was worried about him. He’d brushed off the events in the tea shop, but what if he was genuinely hurt? She couldn’t help but feel responsible. After all, Helena had sort of led him on for her benefit. And if he was, she was worried for herself too. He’d been mad at her before but never over anything serious, and she couldn’t bear to be without her friend right now.

They didn’t speak the entire bus journey, and the tension was becoming palpable. She remembered wanting for him to be quiet the day before and suddenly regretted what she’d wished for. A quiet Pete was unnatural and weird. A quiet Pete meant that something was wrong.

Dinner passed in the same way, and when it was over Myka retreated miserably to the armchair she’d now claimed as her own. They were back early tonight and Helena wasn’t due to call for hours. She wanted to go and hang out with Pete by the games machines like they had before, but he was nowhere to be seen.

A while later a shadow fell across her and she looked up, startled. She’d not seen him enter the room – how much time had passed while she’d been staring into space? A glance at her watch told her he’d been gone for just fifteen minutes.

‘Hey, Pete. Where’d you go?’

‘Exploring.’ He smiled gently at her. ‘Come with me.’

 

Walking quickly but carefully so as not to raise suspicion, Pete led her upstairs and past the bedrooms until they reached a door marked ‘Do Not Enter’.

‘Pete, we’re not allowed in there,’ she protested as he pushed it open to reveal a dim, tiny stairway with a door at the top.

‘Come on Mykes, where’s your sense of adventure? It’s worth it, I promise.’

She narrowed her eyes at him.

‘If we get caught…’

‘We won’t get caught. Well, you _might_ get caught if you keep standing around in the doorway marked ‘Do Not Enter’.’

She saw his point and quickly stepped inside, shutting the door quietly behind her as Pete climbed the steps. When she caught up with him he opened the second door and they both stepped out into balmy summer air.

‘Awesome, huh?’

It really was. Standing on the flat rooftop of the hostel with bustling sounds of London floating up from the streets below, she admired the way the evening sunlight illuminated the red brick buildings around them. A large chimney stood near one end and it was behind it that Pete led her. They sat just a few feet away from the low wall of the rooftop, hidden from anyone else who might venture through the forbidden door. As Myka looked out at the surrounding buildings and didn’t see a soul, she felt warm and safe in the peaceful, solitary rooftop world.

Until the quiet was broken.

‘So.’

‘So?’

‘So, you’ve been acting weird since yesterday and today you were crying in the bathroom. I mean, no judgment. Sometimes we all need a good cry. But after we’re done crying we need to talk it out with our best friend so they don’t think up scary scenarios. Because even if they’re right about the scary scenarios at least they’ll know and won’t be left worrying about what’s wrong and what they can do to help.’

‘You mean today you weren’t just pissed that Helena turned you down?’

He shrugged.

‘You win some, you lose some. There are other hot British fish in the sea. What I’m really bummed about is that you keep saying you’re fine but we both know that’s a lie, and I’m starting to get seriously worried.’

She stared out at the city as a lump formed in her throat and she fought back tears. She was suddenly exhausted – by the lack of sleep, the events of the day, by the guilt that still hadn’t entirely gone and by the dominating weight of her newfound secret.

Pete’s hand reached out and gently turned her head to face him.

‘Talk to me, Myka. Please.’

She thought back to a conversation that they’d had a few months ago when their friend Steve was still a relatively new member of the group, having transferred from New Jersey the year before. It had been nearly Christmas and pretty cold, so Pete had snagged them a spot next to the heater under the hallway stairs. Steve had checked out the stairwell to make sure they were completely alone, and then he’d told them all he was gay.

The memory was still fresh in her mind, and she could vividly recall thinking he had no right looking so freaked. They were his friends. Why would he think they’d mind?

But now she got it. She totally got it. Even remembering how psyched Pete had seemed, how he’d (completely unnecessarily) lifted his shirt until she’d told him to stop, she was still terrified of what he might think of her. Especially what he might think if she told him she was into the girl he’d liked himself.

She had to be sure. Rationally she knew she was being ridiculous, but her pounding heart and terrified brain didn’t seem to want to listen to reason.

‘Promise you won’t hate me?’

He looked dismayed.

‘Mykes, I could never hate you. Jeez, what did you do? Rob a bank? Shoot the Queen?’ His expression darkened. ‘Hang on. It wasn’t you who ate the last of my triple chocolate cookies, was it? Because if you did, I’m afraid that’s it. Friendship over.’

She managed a shaky laugh and shook her head.

‘That’s okay, then. I can officially declare that no matter what you’re about to tell me, I will still love you to pieces.’

‘Okay.’ She nodded resolutely, comforted by Pete’s words and his reassuringly solid arm around her.

‘You know yesterday? When you asked Helena whether she’d date Americans?’

‘Yeah. I still don’t get what was up with that.’

When she spoke, her voice was barely audible.

‘I was up with that.’

‘Huh?’ He frowned. Admittedly it hadn’t been the most eloquently crafted sentence to come out of her mouth.

‘Me. When she said she was open to dating Americans… she meant me.’

‘Wow. I did not know she played for the other team.’

She didn’t reply, just bit her lip and waited until she saw the realization dawn on his face.

‘Oh my god… you like her back, don’t you?’

She nodded, her face starting to crumple. He laughed as he pulled her in for a hug.

‘Hey, hey… of course I don’t hate you! Damn, someone’s clearly been on the crazy pills.’

He held her tight as she sobbed out all her pain and guilt and worry. When she finally emerged from the gross damp patch she’d made in his shirt, she felt her entire body relax and she breathed easily for the first time in days. The happiness bubbled out of her mouth in a joyful laugh as she fell back against the chimney and rested her head on his shoulder.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Sorry for what?’

‘For making you all soggy. For not trusting you. It was a little crazy.’

‘Don’t sweat it. Sometimes we all go a little crazy.’

She smiled, basking in the warm evening sun and the calm aftermath of her emotional storm. They sat like that for a long time before Pete spoke up.

‘Hey, can I ask you something?’

‘Yeah, go ahead.’

‘Is that why you broke up with Sam?’

‘No. We didn’t work out, that’s all.’

‘So you’re not like, totally gay?’

She flushed. Although she’d just admitted it, it still felt kind of embarrassing to be talking about.

‘I don’t think so. I mean… Kurt Smoller’s still…’

‘Ewwwww! Kurt Smoller?! It’s a good thing you found a girlfriend because you have _terrible_ taste in men.’

She punched his leg but couldn’t help smiling. Pete grinned and poked her back.

‘Myka and Helena, sitting in a tree…’

No amount of punching or putting her hand over his mouth could shut him up until he’d finished the entire song, but she didn’t really mind the teasing.

‘So, does that mean we’re gonna be hanging out with her all week?’

‘I was thinking about that. No-one really minds us in the evenings before curfew… we’re scattered all over the hostel, I don’t think anyone would notice me gone.’

‘Myka Ophelia Bering… are you suggesting sneaking out? You?!’

‘I’d be back by curfew…’

‘You’ve really got it bad, haven’t you?’

She blushed and slowly nodded.

‘But I’d need your help.’

‘On one condition.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Ask me properly.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘You know what I mean. Come on… say it.’

She folded her arms and sighed in exasperation.

‘Fine. Pete… will you be my wingman?’

He punched the air before pressing a hand solemnly to his heart.

‘Myka, it would be my honor.’

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really enjoyed writing a bit of smushy platonic Pyka in this chapter! They're one of my favourite relationships ever and I'm having fun writing them as well as Bering and Wells in this fic.
> 
> The next chapter should bring back Helena as well as another of my favourite characters, and the Myka angst should be toning down now as well so looking forward to writing a more fun chapter! Thanks for the lovely comments on chapter 6, nice to know people are reading :)


	8. Flying

For once, Myka wasn’t sitting in the corner waiting for her phone to ring. Even though Helena had said seven and it was nearly eight, she wasn’t worried anymore. Pete still liked her. Helena _liked_ her. Pete didn’t hate Helena. Pete didn’t _like_ Helena. It was an outcome she’d barely dared to hope for, and as a result she felt more relaxed than she had in ages as she hung out with Pete in the games area. She even took a few turns herself and eventually, after learning she was actually pretty good at pinball, she felt her phone buzzing against her hip and wandered away for more privacy.

‘Hey.’

‘Hi. Sorry I’m calling so late, my stupid brother… are you feeling better?’

‘Loads better. I talked to Pete this evening.’

‘About us?’

Us. About them. They were an ‘us’. She resisted the urge to squeal before replying.

‘Yeah. He was really great about it.’

‘That’s wonderful, Myka!’

‘And he says he’ll help me meet up with you.’

‘Even more wonderful. Although tell me – will he be joining us? I can’t help but be disappointed that I’ve never had you alone for more than five minutes.’

Myka paused, suddenly scared. Was she genuinely considering this? Really? Her? She knew she’d be in the biggest trouble of her life if she got caught sneaking out in a foreign country. The most experience she’d ever had in that department was climbing out her bedroom window after dark aged seven, when Tracy had gotten annoyed with her reading by torchlight and tossed her book into the yard.

If she suggested it to Helena, if she made plans, she’d actually have to go through with them. If she kept her mouth shut now no-one would be any the wiser.

But she’d never get to see Helena alone.

Before she lost her nerve, she hurried out of the room and down to the cafeteria. At this time of night it would be deserted, and she wouldn’t be overheard.

‘I did have an idea… are you free in the evenings?’

‘For you Myka, always.’ She paused for a moment, giving Myka time to internally melt at her words and refocus on the conversation. ‘I thought _you_ weren’t free in the evenings?’

‘That’s the thing. Technically, I’m not.’

‘I sense a ‘but’ coming on…’

Myka checked out the cafeteria and the hall outside to make sure she was really, truly alone.

‘ _But_ , they don’t really check on us in the evenings so I thought I could come out and see you.’ Still paranoid she was being overheard, she mumbled the sentence as quickly as she could and hoped that Helena had made sense of it.

‘And there I was thinking you were such a stickler for the rules.’ She sounded impressed, which emboldened Myka.

‘Maybe you’re just a terrible influence.’ She heard Helena laugh down the phone and smiled triumphantly. Was she, Myka Bering, actually flirting?

‘So… is that a yes?’

‘Of course. Now, tell me how exactly you plan to execute these escapades?’

‘Apparently, Pete already has a plan.’

 

 

‘No.’

Pete raised his eyebrows at the rejection of his plan.

‘I’m sorry, I thought you wanted to see your girlfriend.’

‘I will not have a fourteen year old commit international espionage!’

‘Oh, please. Turn down the melodramatics. We’re talking sneaking out of a hostel here, not infiltrating Buckingham Palace. Plus you know she gets up to worse stuff just for fun.’

‘Exactly. We shouldn’t be encouraging her, Pete! I’m trying to be a positive role model.’

‘How sweet. Meanwhile, you still have a key card that’s going to alert security if you use it after seven pm. So unless you’re planning to abseil off the roof…’

Unable to think of a decent argument, Myka simply pulled a face at him.

 

 

‘So, how much fuss did she put up?’

‘Just a little. I’m telling you Claud, she has it _bad_.’

Pete had video called Claudia on his cell phone, taking advantage of the free Wi-Fi in a burger restaurant to avoid the expensive call charges. Myka wasn’t all too happy about them discussing her as if she wasn’t there.

‘You do know ‘she’ can hear you? Hey, pass her over.’

Pete handed the phone over, and Myka grinned at the familiar face on the screen.

‘Hey, Claud. Sorry it’s so late for you, I told Pete we should have called you later on…’

‘Chill, Myka. School’s out. Four in the morning is no big deal. However, if you’d called me this evening your time it’d be eleven a.m. my time and _then_ I might have to kill you.’

‘Told you,’ Pete chimed in. ‘Also, if we called her this evening anyone could overhear us. Calling her now means we’re surrounded by strangers and I get a hamburger. It’s a win-win.’

‘Anyway, you’re here and I’m here and that means I need to hear all about the British super-hottie. Pete’s words not mine, but I could have worked that out for myself because it must take a _super human_ level of hotness to convince you to start sneaking out. Spill.’

Myka bit her lip, unsure where to start.

‘Uh… well, I met her at the Natural History Museum and we got talking, and-’

‘Basically, she’s a super nerd just like Mykes,’ Pete interjected. ‘Super _hot_ nerd, but-’

‘ _Pete_. Would you just let me-’

‘Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah. Be kind, rewind, guys.’

The pair stopped bickering and glanced down at Claudia’s astonished face.

‘Let’s back up to the part where she’s a _she_.’

Myka frowned at Pete.

‘You never told her that part?’

‘Figured I didn’t know who you wanted to know yet.’

‘Thanks.’ She smiled gratefully at him. Once she’d got over her initial terror of telling Pete, Myka knew the next people she’d tell would be Steve and Claudia. But she appreciated just how considerate Pete was being about the entire thing. She turned back to Claudia.

‘So yeah, anyway… she’s a she. And I really like her.’

‘Well then, that’s awesome. Surprising, but awesome. Okay, more info, less arguing. What’s her name?’

‘Helena. Helena Wells.’

‘Helena… Wells.’ They heard the firm tap of a key on Claudia’s laptop.

‘Helena Wells from London, England. Damn. _Myka_. For once, Pete was _not_ exaggerating.’

‘What are you looking at?’

‘Her Facebook profile. Which please tell me you have already seen because there is some serious stalk-worthy potential up in here.’

‘Doesn’t she have her profile private?’

Myka couldn’t believe that someone so intelligent was apparently airing her personal information for the world to see.

‘Please. Privacy settings crumble in the face of my technological know-how.’

‘Claudia…’

Claudia put her hands up in surrender at Myka’s warning tone, but didn’t look too sorry.

‘Just making sure she gets the Claudia seal of approval. Which she totally does, by the way. Okay, who else is staying at this hostel?’

‘Three other schools plus a bunch of random people.’

‘Random people is good. Random people means there’s no reason you shouldn’t be walking in and out whenever you please, so no sneaking required. All we need to take care of is your key card.’

‘Okay, so how do we do that?’

‘ _You_ don’t do anything. If you mess with the card their system won’t recognize it and you’ll be busted. We need to mess with the way the computer recognizes your card. Make it think that the person holding your card is allowed out whenever she likes.’

‘And you can do that from where you are? No way.’

‘Yes way. I mean, it’ll take some serious digging. I’ll need to find out which security system the hostel uses, which server they rent, which database it’s on… but after that it should be pretty easy if you give me your card ID.’

‘Claudia, you are a genius. And also way too good at this and I should _not_ be encouraging you.’

‘No, you shouldn’t. But it’s totally worth it because trust me, your girlfriend looks seriously good in a swimsuit.’

‘Get _off_ her Facebook!’

 

 

The next day at six thirty Myka sat on the roof with Pete, practically trembling with fear and anticipation. They’d gotten back early that day, leaving Myka with half an hour to sit and think about all the things that could go wrong. She anxiously chewed on the end of a Twizzler for something to do, and frowned at the phone she was holding.

‘Claudia, you’re one hundred percent sure this will work?’

‘Honestly? I am ninety eight percent sure this will work. But I’ve covered my tracks so there’s no reason they should suspect anything’s wrong unless someone your end realizes you’re missing.’

‘Which they won’t, because I will totally cover for you.’ Pete spoke in a pointed voice that suggested to Claudia that she should stop talking, but Myka was already worrying aloud.

‘What if there’s a surprise head-check? I shouldn’t have suggested this, it is way too risky. I mean, what if there’s a fire and everyone has to evacuate and I’m not there? I shouldn’t go. I should just call Helena, and say-’

Pete clapped a hand over her mouth, ignoring the glare she shot him, and waited for her mouth to stop moving.

‘Myka. None of those things are going to happen. I’m not a huge fan of math but I’d say the probability is like, almost zero. Besides, you can’t call her because your phone doesn’t work.’

‘I could use your phone.’

‘You could not use Pete’s phone, because you’re using Pete’s phone to talk to me. You can’t hang up on me because I spent all of yesterday making your keycard work and I’m now up _before lunchtime_ to help Pete make sure you go on your date, which starts in half an hour so standing her up at this point would just be plain bad manners.’

‘Not to mention the fact that you really _really_ like this girl. This totally gorgeous super smart kinda nerdy absolutely perfect for you girl. Who really really likes you too. Come on, Mykes. It is my duty as your wingman to get you out of that door.’

When the time to leave finally arrived, Myka was ready to go – if only to make Pete and Claudia stop talking. They headed back down the staircase from the roof and into the hostel.

Busy thinking about how to get Myka through the front doors, neither she nor Pete noticed Sam Martino lurking in the hallway as they walked away from the door marked ‘Do Not Enter.’

 

 

With Pete keeping watch, Myka apprehensively approached the turnstile and swiped her card across the reader. There was a moment in which it didn’t react and her heart stopped, but a few seconds later it beeped, flashed green and allowed her through. She made it out the door and down the front steps, noticing as she glanced back that the security guard in the booth hadn’t even looked up from her book. However, she didn’t breathe easily again until she was around the corner and definitely out of sight of the hostel.

She was free.

‘Myka!’

She turned and smiled at the now familiar voice, noting once again how breathtaking Helena managed to look in just jeans and a tank top as she walked towards her.

‘Hey.’

‘I’m so glad we finally get to do this. How long do you have?’

‘Only about two hours. Where are we going?’

It seemed a pitifully small amount of time. She hoped wherever Helena had planned wasn’t too far away so they could have as much time there as possible.

‘Everywhere. Come on, it’s just down the road.’

‘What do you mean, ‘everywhere’?’

‘Well, tourist everywhere. I dare say you’ll have visited some places already.’

Myka was still confused but Helena didn’t elaborate, simply told her to hurry and set off down the street. Myka’s long strides easily kept pace with her and they walked without talking, eventually stopping at a bus station. Helena glanced around and then stood right at the edge of the curb. She wouldn’t tell Myka where they were going, and wouldn’t let her move from the specific spot they were standing on.

‘What’s that phrase I hear on your TV shows? Prime real estate. We’ve got prime real estate, right here.’

How this particular spot was different from any other part of the gum stained sidewalk Myka couldn’t tell. But Helena had linked their arms together to keep her from wandering, so she wasn’t about to complain.

All became clear a minute later when a large double decker bus pulled up and she found herself standing right in front of the open door. She glanced in astonishment at Helena, who raised an eyebrow smugly.

‘How did you do that?’

‘Experience. Come on!’

As Myka ascended the narrow bus stairway behind her friend, she remonstrated herself for noticing that Helena looked _really_ good in her jeans. Blushing slightly, she was grateful for the cool air on her face as they emerged on the open top deck.

‘See what I mean? Prime real estate,’ Helena proclaimed as they chose seats at the very front of the bus.

She was becoming accustomed to looking out over London in the evening sun, but she didn’t think she’d ever tire of it. Taking her cue from Helena, she leaned against the rail instead of taking her seat. Standing so high, feeling the breeze in her hair and turning her face up to the sun, she felt like she was flying as the big red bus navigated the London tourist route.

People got on and off to see the sights, but the pair remained where they were as they didn’t have time to stop and explore. Myka didn’t mind. From where they stood they had a great view of all the monuments and she had time to take pictures whenever the bus stopped. In front of Big Ben, Helena pulled her phone out and started taking photos too.

‘Why do you need pictures? Surely you can come out and see it whenever you like?’

‘Not in this glorious light I can’t. Or in this company.’ She turned and pulled Myka in beside her so the clock was behind them. As she held the phone in her outstretched arm to take their photo, Myka fought to keep her eyes open against the glare of the sun. The smile stayed on her face long after it had been taken, and she took a last look at the gorgeous old clock tower as the bus moved on yet again.

Aside from the sights of London, another view was particularly spectacular. She turned her head to observe Helena next to her, eyes shining and face radiant with the deep orange glow of the evening. Her hair rippled in the wind and every so often she would use her fingers to rake it back from her face, never pausing in her animated description of the various places they passed. Myka was more than happy to listen, as Helena had lived in London her entire life and seemed to have a story to tell about absolutely everywhere. The only challenge was to actually keep looking at the monuments being described, when every fiber of her being was just waiting for a chance to sneak another glance at the girl beside her.

‘And right over there… that’s where I pretended to be a naïve American tourist to gatecrash a school trip because there was a pretty girl on board.’

Myka rolled her eyes and smirked until she glanced in the direction Helena was pointing – straight at the London Eye. She remembered the previous week’s events and bit her lip.

‘Pretty girl, huh?’

‘Exceedingly so.’

This time she could feel Helena’s gaze on her before she turned, reminding herself not to look away as their eyes met. She braced herself for the piercing stare she’d come to know – scrutiny that was somehow as intense as staring directly at the low-lying sun. The look that made her want to avert her eyes but commanded attention at the same time, making her face blush and her heart pound.

Instead she found herself met by eyes that seemed almost unfamiliar in their softness – warm brown instead of sparkling black, gentle rather than demanding. She found herself captivated by those eyes, by the lips that were slightly parted as if about to say something, by the dark strands that fluttered across her face and which she made no move to brush away. It wasn’t until she felt the soft brush of the hair across her own cheek that she realized how close they’d gotten, and it was then she felt her heart beat faster and her stomach flutter in nervous anticipation.

‘I would very much like to kiss you right now,’ Helena murmured as she finally pushed the distracting strands out of her eyes. Myka wanted to melt at those perfectly spoken words, and had half a mind to throw caution to the wind and plant one on her right there. But remembering the other twenty people on the deck – not to mention the dozens milling around on the Embankment below – she pulled back with a faint smile.

‘Perhaps we should wait until we have a slightly smaller audience.’

Helena sighed.

‘Now I’m slightly regretting my choice of location. Didn’t exactly think that one through.’

‘I think it’s perfect.’

‘Mission accomplished then, I suppose.’

‘Definitely.’

They still had a half hour left on their tour, and retreated back to their seats when the sun began to set and the air grew colder. Their linked hands rested on Helena’s knee as they stared out at the city, the bus growing quieter as people got off at various stops. At the stop before theirs the family behind them finally departed and they were left alone on the top deck. Myka looked over at Helena and took a deep breath.

‘Our audience has gone.’

‘It appears so.’

‘How long before our stop?’

‘About a minute.’

She felt the twists of nervous energy build up again but like every other step of her relationship with Helena, Myka had no time to stew or panic or overanalyze. All of a sudden Helena was looking at her in _that way_ again and she was closer than ever before and then Myka was experiencing possibly the best kiss she’d ever had. The person in her arms was smaller and softer than she was used to, the feeling of long hair in her fingers totally new. It was slow and gentle and everything she’d always imagined her first kiss would be like before she’d experienced the clumsy reality. When the bell rang to announce the arrival at their stop, she felt a lurch of disappointment.

After they’d disembarked and it was time to say goodbye, they lingered for a while before Helena pressed one last brief kiss to her lips.

‘Same time tomorrow?’

‘Definitely.’

 


	9. Extracurricular Activities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for this chapter being four months late... if you're still with me, congratulations and thank you! I can assure you this story will definitely get finished because it's one of my favourites, but updates may continue to be sporadic!

Myka practically skipped up the steps to the hostel, only allowing a hint of apprehension to interfere with her elation as she scanned her card through the barrier – which thankfully let her through.

When she opened the door of the common room and glanced at the familiar scene, she breathed a sigh of relief. Groups of people were crammed onto the couches, talking and playing with their cellphones. Some were playing pool, others cheering them on, and the usual bunch were gathered around the games machines. No-one looked like they were about to send out a search party for her.

She saw Pete waiting his turn for pinball, but when he spotted her he grinned and broke out of the line.

‘Hey, Mykes! Wanna grab a snack from the cafeteria?’

He didn’t give her time to respond before he was dragging her out of the room and down the hall to the dim, empty cafeteria.

‘Okay, hold on a second. I mean, I used snacks to get us out of the room but now we’re here and there’s snacks and I feel like this is a snack-worthy conversation. Here, call Claud.’

Myka rolled her eyes and took his phone, sitting down on one of the benches as he fed change into the vending machine. She found Claudia’s picture in his contact list and hit the button for video call. An eager face appeared on the screen almost instantly.

‘How was it? Where’d she take you? Was it romantic? Did you make out? What about-’

‘Hey, wait for me!’

There was a final clunk in the bottom of the machine before Pete gathered up his food and bounded over, tossing a packet of potato chips to her before he sat down.

‘Okay, shoot.’

‘She took me on a bus. You know, those open-top ones that give you the tours of the city?’

‘Where’d you go?’

‘Everywhere. All of London. I mean, we didn’t have time to get off anywhere so we just rode and talked, and she told me stories.’

‘Wait, you spent two hours riding a bus? Mykes, you are way too easily pleased.’

‘It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t – it was just fascinating. Like, she’s lived there her whole life and she knows so much more than that tour guide Nielsen hired. And the sun was going down and everything looked so beautiful, and-’

Claudia cleared her throat.

‘Just to clarify - by ‘everything’, are we meaning the great City of London, or Helena?’

Pete wiggled his eyebrows at her and Myka blushed.

‘Both?’

‘And on this extremely educational sounding trip, were there any… uh, ‘extracurricular activities’?’

Claudia emphasized her words with tiny air quotes.

‘Maybe?’

Claudia punched the air as Pete held his hand out for a high five.

‘Yes!’

‘Virtual five, Claud!’

She grinned and rolled her eyes as her friends celebrated. Eventually they settled down and Claudia leaned closer to her camera.

‘Okay, I need details.’

Myka opened her mouth to reply when a large clang behind them made her jump. She turned to see Miss Leena stood in the doorway.

‘Time for curfew, guys. We have an early start tomorrow.’ She smiled apologetically before closing the door behind her. Claudia sighed in frustration.

‘Cut to the chase. _Did you kiss the girl_?’

Myka grinned at her impatience.

‘ _Yes_ , Claudia. I did.’

‘Good?’

‘Very good.’

‘Better than you-know-who?’

‘ _So_ much better.’ At the memory, she smiled again and Pete, who was already on his feet, poked her.

‘Okay, you can dream about her upstairs. Come on. Claud, I’ll speak to you later.’

‘See you guys! Myka, I expect details!’

‘Bye, Claudia!’

As they headed towards the door, Pete nudged her.

‘So. Are you seeing her again?’

‘Tomorrow night.’

She stopped and turned to him.

‘Thanks for tonight, Pete. It was… it was amazing, and I couldn’t have done it without you.’

‘No problem, Mykes.’ He slung an arm around her shoulders and they made their way out the door and towards the staircase. ‘Anything to help you get over that-’

‘Over that what, Lattimer?’

Pete sighed as Sam appeared at the top of the stairs.

‘Over that giant chip on your shoulder, dude. Seriously, just let it go.’

‘Let what go? It’s not like I ever had her in the first place. Everyone knows you two have been at it for years. You’re not even being discreet anymore, sneaking off all the time doing god knows what.’

When he told this story later, Pete would say Myka snapped. She would tell it differently – simply as the moment she realized she needed Sam to stop talking and decided to do something about that. In, admittedly, a not so successful way.

‘Why are you so goddamn _pathetic_? I cannot believe I wasted three years of my life on you. _Three years_. Three years I _loved_ you. Not Pete. Not anyone else. _You_. You made me _happy_.

‘And then you didn’t anymore and neither did I. Neither of us cared enough to make it work, so don’t go acting all sour and pathetic and heartbroken just because I was the one with the – the _balls_ to admit it. Which isn’t surprising if I’m to believe what I’ve heard from someone who’s seen you in the locker room.’

Pete made a pained noise beside her but, mid-tirade, she barely noticed him.

‘So. Leave. Me. Alone. Man up and accept the fact that I don’t like you anymore. Not even a little bit, because now I have someone who makes me really, _really_ happy, who is ten times more exciting than you will _ever_ be, who just kissed me the best I’ve ever been kissed, and gave me the best night of my life until you _ruined_ it!’

She didn’t realize the truth of these words until she’d spoken them and - too late - she felt the hot tears on her face. She shoved him out of her way and hurried up the stairs towards her dorm, until she heard the grunt of pain from behind her and suddenly Pete was on the floor.

‘Locker room, huh, Lattimer?’

Her eyes widened in horror, as she realized exactly what she’d said.

 

After twenty anxious minutes waiting on the stairs she tentatively peered round the door of the common room that Sam had just sulkily stormed out of. Miss Leena immediately noticed her tear-stained face and asked if she was okay – her gently scrutinizing gaze suggested she knew there was something going on, but didn’t press the matter. Professor Nielsen merely rolled his eyes and grunted that he expected them upstairs in the next five minutes ‘ _or else’_.

The teachers vacated the room, and Pete looked up to give her a weak smile.

‘Well, that was a hell of a speech.’

She bit her lip as she approached.

‘I am _so_ sorry.’

‘I’m not sure if I should feel betrayed or impressed. He’s been trying to provoke us for a week and a half, and you managed to send him totally crazy in thirty seconds. He’s basically chained to Nielsen for the rest of the trip.’

She smirked, but her expression quickly sobered when she saw the ice pack he was cradling.

‘Pete, I had no idea he would…’

‘Rule number one. Never talk smack about a guy’s junk unless you want him to smack yours.’

She felt her eyes grow hot again, and Pete grabbed her hand.

‘Hey… no more tears tonight. It was totally worth it. Although next time I make a comment about your ex – which by the way was totally not true, dude’s hung like a donkey– it’s for your ears only.’

She nodded as she swallowed the painful lump in her throat, and Pete chuckled.

‘And then you told him I was a better kisser than him.’

‘Don’t flatter yourself, I meant Helena.’

‘Yeah, but he totally thinks you meant me.’

 

Completely shattered and not wanting to further irk Professor Nielsen, Myka headed to her bedroom – only be greeted by her eagerly inquisitive roommates. She hoped a quick rundown of events would satisfy them, but apparently the entire situation needed to be dissected and analyzed – frustratingly, in Sam’s favor.

‘He must really be missing you…’

Eventually they fell quiet and she could let her mind drift back to where it had wanted to go all evening – back to the shivers on the top deck of the bus that could have been caused by the evening chill drawing in, or by what was about to happen.

What _had_ happened.

She recalled the kiss again, trying to remember the exact feeling of Helena’s lips on hers. Once again thoughts of Helena left her sleepless, but this time she was filled with nervous excitement. Every part of her was buzzing with a static charge that, when it got too much, made her want to squeal and hold her pillow tight.

However, the sooner she got to sleep the sooner tomorrow would come – bringing Helena with it. She tried to lay still and counted backwards in her head, until finally she fell asleep.

 

The next morning, Myka barely managed to drag herself out of bed and into her clothes. A cold washcloth on her face helped a little, but Pete still commented on her resemblance to the undead when she appeared at breakfast.

On the bus, her efforts to keep her eyes open failed so often that eventually he told her to just sleep – he’d wake her when they arrived. Unfortunately he prodded her a little too late. When she came to and lifted her head from its resting place on his shoulder, people were already lining up to leave the bus and were smiling and nudging each other at the sight of her. As they disembarked, Abigail Cho took her to one side.

‘I’m sorry, I know everyone’s talking about you guys and it must suck for you, but I just wanted to say you make a really cute couple.’

‘Um, uh, actually-‘

‘Thanks, Abi, that’s so sweet of you to say,’ Pete interjected firmly before steering her off in the other direction. Myka waited until they were slightly out of earshot before punching him.

‘Pete, we are _not_ a couple!’

‘Well, duh! But newsflash, every single person on that bus thinks we are. Even _Nielsen_ said so last night when he was laying into Sam. It’s going to be really, _really_ hard work to convince them you don’t love me. I mean, why wouldn’t you?’

He flexed, and she rolled her eyes and swatted his arm away.

‘Now – and I’m surprised you haven’t thought of this already – why the hell do you even want to convince them? If they all think you’re hanging out with me, there’s no way they’ll guess you’re sneaking off to make out with Hot British Girl.’

‘Pete, she has a name.’

But she had to concede he had a good point.

The day that followed was a good one. Their visits to Buckingham Palace and several war monuments didn’t give Pete much opportunity for mischief – which was useful, given that Myka’s thoughts were otherwise occupied by Helena Wells. Aware that they were on dangerous ground with Professor Nielsen, they tried to stay out of his way and in the process also managed to avoid Sam, since he was all but handcuffed to their teacher. The excitement about the previous evening’s fight died down eventually and they were left alone to explore the monuments.

That evening, Myka was no less nervous about sneaking out than the night before. Yes, the class were all convinced she was dating Pete. They wouldn’t arbitrarily guess she was sneaking out to meet Helena. However, they were center of attention right now and after spending the entire trip together, she was worried people might ask questions if Pete suddenly spent the entire evening without her.

He wasn’t so concerned.

‘I’ll keep it cool, don’t worry. Hang out on the roof a little while, come down for snacks occasionally, play a few games… if anyone asks, I’ll say you’re taking a shower or something.’

‘Text me if anything goes wrong?’

‘Nothing is going to go wrong. I promise. Go make out with your girl.’

 

An hour later, after copious make-up application to cover the dark circles under her eyes, she found herself walking hand-in-hand along the Thames Embankment with Helena Wells.

Helena's company was as easy as ever, although the tender kiss she'd initiated upon arrival had set Myka's stomach fluttering. The pair alternated between animated discussion and companionable silence as they walked along the river, and during a lull in the conversation she glanced over to see Helena gazing unabashedly in her direction. She smiled shyly, faintly embarrassed under the scrutiny, and received a grin in return as Helena nudged her arm.

'You know, you really do have the most lovely smile.'

'Thanks.' She felt her smile grow wider at the compliment and blushed a little. 'Hey, can I ask you something?’

‘Of course.’

‘When was it that you… when did you realize? You know, that you...’

‘That I liked women?’

‘Yeah.’

Myka watched as Helena pursed her lips, pondering the question.

‘I don’t remember realizing, exactly. I feel like I always knew, just as I always knew I was attracted to men. I do remember realizing that it wasn’t the norm, but that was before I really understood attraction so it wasn’t a great revelation. It wasn’t until I was in secondary school that I considered the implications.’

‘When did you start telling people?’

‘Well, I’ve never been particularly backwards in coming forwards. I did have a few months of internal crisis before I told my friends, but London is a fairly accepting place so it wasn’t too hard after that.’

‘And your parents?’

‘Are apparently very open minded, although you wouldn't know it when it comes to their children. They won't admit it - they entertain my guests without complaint and have assured me that they're completely supportive, but they're humoring me. They use my bisexuality to reassure themselves I will one day settle down with a suitable man and inherit his estate. One time I contested that assumption and my mother simply laughed.’ She mimicked a condescending tone. 'Helena, dear, that would be rather unprecedented in the society pages.’

They walked for a while in contemplative silence, until Helena spoke again.

‘What about yours?’

‘I was just thinking that even if they did disown me, at least it wouldn’t be announced in the _society pages_.’

Helena grinned, but her face soon returned to a somber expression.

‘Would they really…?’

'I don't know.' Myka sighed. 'Dad always said if any son of his turned out like that he wouldn't stand for it. I don't think he ever considered that _I_ might.' She paused. 'He's never considered me much at all.'

'I've always been somewhat overshadowed by my brother as well. Older or younger?'

'Neither.' She saw Helena's face take on the familiar quizzical expression that usually surfaced when she mentioned the name of her Dad's bookstore. ‘Everyone thought I was going to be a boy, but obviously...' She loosely gestured at herself. 'I've just never lived up to those expectations. I guess this won’t be any different.'

'Well, I for one am glad you're _not_ a boy.' Helena gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. 'You know, you don't have to tell them. Not straight away. At all, if you’d rather not.'

They walked a few more paces before Myka sighed.

‘I wish I could.’

Helena didn't reply, just quirked one of her eyebrows in question.

‘Like, ever since I met you I haven’t been able to get you out of my head and I just want to tell anyone who’ll listen about you. But I can’t, because where I come from most people won’t get it and anyway you’ll be thousands of miles away so what’s the point? Even if I told my parents about you, they wouldn’t listen. They’d just act like I never said anything because it’d be easier than accepting the fact they have a gay kid. They’d be able to pretend like nothing’s changed because to them it won’t have. But if I can't talk about it, I'll be pretending too and it'll be like you're not... that this never...' She sighed in exasperation, one hand flailing as she struggled to explain what she meant.

'I know this was never going to last, I just – I wish I had something they can't deny. Proof that you exist, and that this happened, and that – that I _loved_ you.’

She ducked her head, suddenly unable to look Helena in the eye. They’d never been anything but completely frank with one another, but this was different. This was the kind of soul-baring she’d only ever shared with her journal before, and she wasn’t even sure she’d have admitted this within its pages for fear someone would find and read it. She felt hot all over, her heart was pounding and every second Helena remained silent seemed to last a lifetime.

Eventually she felt cool fingers against the heat of her face, a thumb under her chin that gently encouraged her to look up. Helena’s brow was slightly furrowed, her cheeks were tinged pink and when she finally opened her mouth, it was several more seconds before she found her voice.

‘Myka, I… nothing and _nobody_ can deny the way I feel about you. Not your parents, not mine. And if either you or Colorado Springs needs reminding of my existence, I’d be only too happy to pay a visit one day.’

‘Really?’

‘Most definitely. And until that time comes, I believe there is a wonderful invention known as the Internet.’

Myka felt her face split into a grin, and decided that in that moment she wanted nothing more than to be kissing the girl in front of her. Helena seemed to agree with this sentiment and a few seconds later there were arms wrapped around her, lips melding with hers and slim fingers entangled in her wayward curls. They gave no thought to the assorted Londoners and tourists passing them, so caught up were they in each other, and for a while neither felt the insistent buzzing between them. Eventually Myka registered the feeling and pulled away, grumbling as she fumbled in her pocket for her phone.

‘This had _so_ better be important.’

She entered the passcode, immediately recognizing Pete’s number on her screen and feeling a pang of apprehension.

‘Sam looking 4 u. GET BACK NOW. Use back stairs. Said u r in shower. Run!’

Fear gripped her chest and she turned to Helena in a panic.

‘I have to go, someone’s looking for me. How do we get back?!’

‘Relax, I know a shortcut. Come on, this way.’

Not remembering the way they’d come anyway, Myka had no choice but to follow Helena in a different direction as she broke into a run. She thanked the heavens they’d stayed within walking distance instead of getting the bus this evening.

Halfway down a street Myka recognized as being closer to the hostel than she’d thought they were, she felt cool drops on her face.

‘Seriously? _Now_?’ she complained, squinting against the rain as it began to fall harder and harder.

‘Good old British weather,’ she heard Helena pant from just ahead of her.

She soon gave up trying to shelter her face and accepted her soggy fate as her shoes filled with water. Her lungs burned as they weaved their way along the sidewalk, her only relief being the wait for gaps in the traffic before they crossed the busy roads of Central London.

Helena turned to face her when they eventually reached the corner that was their meeting place. Wanting nothing more than to bend over and clutch her side, Myka uttered a breathless ‘thank you’ and gripped Helena in the briefest of hugs before she heard ‘Go!’ gasped in her ear.

Hurrying into the blind alley behind the row of stores and hostels on their street, Myka found that the gate at the end was locked. Thinking on her feet, she pushed a garbage can against the brick wall and climbed onto it, scaling the wall and dropping the short distance to the ground the other side. It wasn’t long before she reached the tiny back yard of their hostel – thankfully deserted by its smoking residents due to the rain. Not wanting anyone to see her in her damp clothes, she cautiously climbed the back stairs and emerged on the landing.

She immediately took a step back when she saw Sam loitering outside the bathrooms – which happened to be next to the front windows of the hostel. She waited until he was staring out the window, then darted around the corner and into her room, out of breath with her heart racing.

‘Why are you all wet?’ Abigail asked from her position on her bed, reading a magazine.

‘Shower malfunction,’ she replied as she collected dry clothes from her bureau, still gasping from the run. ‘That – that water is _freezing_.’ The lounging girls all nodded in understanding.

‘The bathrooms here are awful. I mean, this trip was _so_ expensive and we can’t even get en-suite accommodation?’

Myka listened to their chatter from behind the changing curtain and felt her heart slow down, but she felt shaken. She should have been relieved. She’d got away with it. But she’d just come so close to getting caught, and she knew there was no way she could sneak out to see Helena again. It was too risky. At this realization, tears began to slide down her face. She’d known she was leaving soon, but she thought she’d have at least one more chance to say a proper goodbye. She pulled it together to get out of her room, and snuck past Sam again. He could wait outside the bathroom all night for all she cared.

She headed into the common room, greeted immediately by a frantic Pete.

‘Hey! Did you get back in okay?’

She nodded.

‘Can I borrow your phone?’

‘Sure. What for?’

‘I need to text Helena and call off tomorrow.’ She pressed her lips together and looked away, an expression Pete instantly recognized as ‘not up for discussion’. He handed it over, and she retreated to the corner.

Eventually, Sam came into the room and after a quick look around, made a beeline for her.

‘Lattimer said you were in the shower. I never saw you come out.’

She didn’t reply. He looked at her wet hair and sighed. ‘We must have missed each other. Look, did he tell you I was looking for you?’

His voice was soft and friendly – a tone she hadn’t heard since they’d broken up. Still, she pressed her lips together and avoided his eyes.

‘Look, I know I’ve been horrible. I’m sorry. I hate fighting you like this. I guess I just- I saw you with him, and you always said you didn’t have feelings for him, but clearly you do, and it felt like you were just waiting for the right moment to break up with me so you could be with him. I got angry. And I acted like a jerk and made you angry, and I shouldn’t have done that. Can we at least talk things over?’

‘ _I don’t want to talk to you_.’ Her words were harsh, short and tasted bitter in her mouth.

‘I guess I can understand that. Another time, maybe.’ He paused a second before walking away, and she sighed shakily. Those were the words, the tone, the sensibility she’d been wanting to hear for a month. They sounded like the Sam she had loved, the Sam she’d wanted to stay friends with. The Sam who had apparently spent the evening wanting to make things right, and with impeccably bad timing had managed to ruin everything. Again.

Her reluctance to speak hadn’t been spiteful, but rather the only way she knew she could hold herself together against the rising lump in her throat. Now, knowing that her fresh resentment was because of his good intentions and that she had harshly rejected the ceasefire she’d been longing for, she was about to lose the battle not to cry. She managed to make it out of the room and into a bathroom stall before she shattered.


	10. Sense of Adventure

The next morning Myka could barely find the motivation to drag herself out of bed. The last week had been an erratic emotional rollercoaster, and the alternating nerves, worry, excitement, anger and delight had kept her sleep deprived body running on some form of adrenaline. Last night the rollercoaster had come to a screaming halt, shocking her system and leaving sadness and exhaustion in its wake.

She wasn't sure if she could manage today. As soon as she appeared at breakfast she laid eyes on Sam, who offered her a hopeful smile. Thankfully her view of him was blocked by Pete before she had to decide on a response. He took her shoulders and turned her away from Sam, towards the breakfast bar.

'Do _not_ let him make you feel bad,' he muttered, casting a warning glance in Sam's direction. 'He's the one that screwed up.'

She nodded and reached for a granola bar, then escaped to the corner where thankfully, a table with only two chairs was available. She watched as Pete navigated the length of the bar, piling toast, eggs, sausage, bacon, beans and oatmeal onto his tray. Meanwhile, she tried to think about anything that would distract her from the pain in her throat, the pressure in her chest. She was not going to cry in public.

When he made his way over, she finally unwrapped her granola – wishing she had the appetite for something more substantial. Mealtimes were a perfect excuse not to talk to Pete, as he respected her preference not to talk while eating - despite his habit of displaying to the world his own half chewed mouthfuls. As he mumbled about nothing much, she nibbled on her paltry breakfast and blinked back the hot tears gathering in her eyes. _She_ _was_ _not_ _going_ _to_ _cry_ _in_ _public_.

Pete knew, but he also knew not to mention it. He knew from experience that in this state one wrong word could send her crumbling. If they were alone, he might have provoked it - a good cry and a Pete-hug would do her the world of good. But they weren't, so he kept chattering about safe, boring topics. And she was grateful. She didn't cry.

When Miss Leena stopped her in the doorway and asked if she was okay, she didn't cry. When they passed the bus stop that was her and Helena's meeting spot, she didn't cry. When she tripped on the steps of the Tate Modern and it was Sam who caught her arm, steadying her with that oh so familiar look of concern, she used every bit of willpower she had not to cry.

She stoically made it around the gallery, even relaxing for a while and letting some of the beautiful paintings distract her from her misery. She didn't even have the energy to get frustrated with Pete, who was being particularly slow today. As he hung back again to complain loudly that 'come _on_ , Myka, how can that be art? That's a square. I can draw squares! I've been drawing squares since _kindergarten_!' Myka rolled her eyes as disapproving mutters began from the tour group next to them.

Then one voice broke out above the rest, and Myka froze.

'Bloody Americans.'

She turned slowly, her eyes confirming what her ears hadn't dared to believe. Helena was reverently examining another piece of minimalist art.

'No appreciation for culture,' she continued, before finally turning towards them and winking at Myka.

It was at that moment that she forgot not to cry, and seconds later she felt slender arms wrap around her.

'I'm sorry,' she sniffled, allowing a laugh to break through her tears. When she finally let Helena go, she noticed a few perplexed looks as the tour group was ushered away by their guide. Her attention was soon drawn back to the girl before her. 'I just can't believe you're here!'

Helena grinned and wiped away a stray tear from Myka's cheek.

'I think your 'wingman' deserves a pay rise.'

Myka grinned at Pete, who was watching smugly.

'You did this?!' She gave him a brief bear hug and whispered 'thank you' into his ear.

'And in return...' Helena broke into the conversation and beckoned over a petite girl with flashing dark eyes. 'Pete, Kelly, Kelly, Pete.'

He shot her a delighted look before turning and giving Kelly a mock bow.

'Enchanted, my lady.'

In return she arched a perfectly dark eyebrow - Myka wondered if Helena had taught Kelly or vice versa - and he immediately dropped the act.

'So... my work here is done. See you guys later?' He and Kelly wandered in the direction of the next exhibit. As he passed, he whispered in her ear. 'Now _that's_ how you wingman.'

Myka grinned and looked back at Helena.

'Is that really fair on Kelly?'

'Oh, she can take care of herself. If I were you, I’d be more concerned about Pete.’ She gestured towards the doorway and took Myka’s arm. ‘Shall we?’

A while later, Myka wandered through the galleries feeling slightly dazed. She still couldn’t quite believe Helena was here. If it wasn’t for the firm presence of slender fingers linked with hers, she would be sure she was dreaming. The only thing keeping her from a state of pure blissful contentment was the very real possibility that she’d see someone she knew, and would have to release her grip on Helena’s hand.

‘So, what happened last night? Pete didn’t mention any details.’

‘Sam was looking for me. He wanted to _apologize_.’

Helena pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow.

‘Quite right too.’ She paused. ‘Did you accept?’

‘Not exactly.’ Now that Helena was beside her again, her lingering anger from the previous evening had faded and she let out a small laugh. ‘I was kind of mean. I was pissed at him for ruining our date.’

‘I must say, I’m not feeling too charitable towards him myself.’

‘I feel a little bad though. He meant well. It’s the first time since… that he’s been _Sam_ again. My Sam.’

‘Should I be worried?’

Myka grinned and glanced sideways to yet again run her eyes over Helena. Her hair was tied back today, in one of those buns which somehow managed to look sleek and messy at the same time. The type Myka could never hope to achieve, but that she’d enviously seen her sister toss up without even checking a mirror. However, the style was perfect for revealing Helena’s beautifully defined profile. Myka found it even more captivating than the glass sculptures surrounding them, their colours catching spotlights and throwing rainbows around the darkened room.

‘Not even a little bit.’

Helena turned to face her, her eyes bearing an expression Myka didn’t quite recognise. They were smiling, sparkling with what looked like excitement but had a hint of something else. An unfamiliar glint which Myka was soon to learn meant _mischief_.

Five seconds later she found herself pulled abruptly behind a large display board, feeling Helena’s finger pressed firmly against her lips. She stifled the surprised exclamation that was about to escape her and peered anxiously through a gap in the board. Their fellow visitors were still absorbed in the sculptures, their own light chatter having disguised the sound of Helena’s ambush.

She felt feather light breaths in her ear as Helena snaked an arm around her waist.

‘What do you say we carry on what we missed yesterday?’

Her heart began to quicken at the idea, and she became aware of fingers stroking languidly at the small of her back. However, she could also feel the presence of a half dozen tourists just feet away from them.  

‘Helena, we _can’t_ …’

‘Says who?’

Myka’s eyes widened as through the gap she saw a man leaning forward to examine their display. She took a step further back into the shadows, leading Helena with her.

‘Shhh…’ she whispered under her breath.

‘Come on, Myka...’ The murmur was barely louder than her own, but the slow, measured timbre made her shiver. ‘Where’s your sense of _adventure_?’

After brief consideration, she decided that the temptingly clandestine suggestion would at least keep Helena’s mouth occupied. She pulled her even further back until they were pressed against one another, and felt herself brush against the heavy curtain lining the wall. Her heart pounded as they paused for a second, so close that she could feel the warm caress of breath on her cheek. She could just make out the spark in Helena’s eyes, daring her to close the final distance between them.

She smiled faintly and closed her eyes, letting a final wave of butterflies rush through her before she leaned in. As soon as she felt soft lips embrace her own, she relaxed and let herself melt even further into Helena. The flutters settled down into warm contentment, and she finally surrendered herself to pure abandon.

How long they remained entwined, she did not know. Long kisses which robbed her of breath gave way to shorter ones, affectionate pecks, before moving in yet again. Eventually she had the mind to pull back, pressing her forehead against Helena’s while she checked her wristwatch. She sighed.

‘I have to be back in fifteen minutes,’ she murmured into her companion’s ear.

‘Then you have five more,’ Helena replied. ‘We’re not too far from the exit here.’

Myka was determined to relish every last moment that was she and Helena in this place. So determined, so absorbed, so lost in the blissful minutes that could be their last together, that she didn’t hear the approaching footsteps. Nor did she process the clinks of the curtain rings above her until all of a sudden, she was illuminated by natural light. Time stood still for a second, only to be broken by the clearing of a familiar throat. Her heart stopped. Sheer terror shot through her and gripped her chest.

Too late, she noticed the archway that had been obscured by the heavy dark curtain. The archway leading into the neighbouring gallery. The neighbouring gallery where at least half her class stood, fronted by Professor Nielsen.

Oddly, her brain instantly started processing the scene. No way could that many of her raucous colleagues have usually snuck up on her undetected. She suspected that just moments ago they’d been shuffling along in sullen silence, looks of bitter resentment being shot at the back of their apoplectic professor who was presumably escorting them back to the bus early. For what misdemeanour, she didn’t know. Any tell-tale expression on their faces had been replaced by astonishment, amusement, horror or mild distaste.

For a moment she was frozen. Then she turned on her heel, pushed past Helena and ran. She dodged through the gallery, out the front door, down the steps and onto the streets of London.

Rounding a corner, she suppressed a sob. She didn’t care that she was in an unfamiliar city, that she didn’t know exactly where she was going – she just had to get away. She could hear Pete calling after her and knew he’d catch her eventually, but she couldn’t stop. If she stopped, not only Pete but everyone else would catch up with her.

Some way ahead of her, across a busy street, she saw a leafy public garden. It was large, and she felt sure if only she could reach it there would be somewhere to hide for a moment, to gather her thoughts. She dashed towards it and glanced left at the miraculously clear road, before stepping resolutely out across the street, towards her sanctuary.

It was only then that she heard the blast of a horn, the squeal of brakes.

She turned just in time to see the giant red bus skidding towards her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those who left lovely comments/kudos since the last update, and thanks all of you for waiting for this chapter! I had to concentrate on university and thankfully I got a great grade to show for it. Hopefully there will be a new update soon and I won't leave poor Myka there too long!


	11. Look Right

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahem. I believe my note on the last chapter said 'hope I won't leave this cliffhanger too long'. That was two years ago yesterday. Oops. If anyone still remembers what's going on or wants to pick up a new multi-chapter, here we go!

‘MYKA!’

She heard the anguished scream of her name as she froze at the sight of the bright red monstrosity bearing down on her, but almost before she had time to process what was happening she felt strong arms around her waist and was dragged backwards out of the way. As she went, her foot caught on the curb and she and her savior stumbled to the ground. She landed uncomfortably on her ass and heard a sickening crack and heavy groan on impact.

Just as she registered that it was Pete sprawled beneath her, a panting Helena came to a halt above them. Her face was even paler than usual and held a look of horror, and messy dark tendrils were escaping from the pristine style Myka had been admiring only half an hour ago.

‘Look _right_ , you idiot! In any case, did your mother not teach you to look both ways?!’ The passionate scolding held a high pitched tone of consternation, her voice made unsteady by the terror that for a split second had gripped the three of them. She paused for a second, wild eyes scanning the pair on the floor. ‘Pete, your arm!’

A sickening feeling rose in Myka’s chest as she scrambled off her friend. The damage was done, however. She noted immediately that his right arm was bent out of shape and already beginning to swell.

She palmed her forehead for a moment, resisting the urge to throw up, or to collapse in on herself, or break down in tears. In her peripheral vision she saw Helena dealing with the irate bus driver, who’d probably had as big a shock as any of them. She saw some passengers gawking from the bus window, some getting off to help. Others escaped the scene, unfazed by the commotion and impatient to get on with their days. Eventually the driver was placated and the bus pulled away. The line of cars queuing behind followed slowly, their drivers trying to discern the link between the sudden halt and the shaken teenagers on the sidewalk. Pedestrians weaved seamlessly around them, intent on nothing but reaching their destination. Although inside it felt like everything was crumbling, the world around her kept moving, shouting, honking.

In the middle of it all was Pete. Her heart squeezed painfully as she watched him use his shirt to immobilize his arm, a familiar sight from the times he’d been injured before. Each time she’d called his mom, accompanied him to the emergency room and entertained him while he waited to be seen. This time was different, though. This time the sweat on his hairline and rigid set of his jaw – the only indicators of his pain – hadn’t been caused by a bulky football player or a fall from a tree. They’d been caused by her. Now she had to help fix it.

She looked up at Helena, who was darting quickly through the crowd towards them and speaking solemnly into her cell phone. As she reached them, she finished her conversation and slipped the phone into her pocket.

‘Helena, where’s the nearest hospital?’

‘A little way along the river from here. I’ve called a taxi, it’ll meet us right here in a few minutes.’

Myka sighed with relief, thankful for Helena’s local knowledge. Then she remembered that had it not been for Helena, they wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with.

No.

If it hadn’t been for her, they wouldn’t be in this situation. If she hadn’t… if she wasn’t…

 _Shut up, Myka_. Putting her inner demons on hold for a while, she pushed herself up off the ground.

‘Pete?’ She spoke softly, hesitantly. She was afraid of the expression she’d see in his eyes, but when he slowly turned towards her there was no anger in them, only pain. If anything, that hurt more. ‘Can we help you up?’

He nodded, and after a few minutes and several sharp winces he was on his feet. It wasn’t long before a black cab arrived, and they were soon secured in the backseat as the cab made the short journey. Pete was pale and clammy, his face set in a grimace. Knowing how much the tiniest movement would hurt him, Myka tensed in sympathy every time the cab jerked over one of the many speed humps surrounding the hospital.

Two hours later she felt like she was going insane. Earlier Miss Leena had come rushing around a corner just as Pete’s name was called, and she’d swept after him with just a distracted glance in Myka’s direction and instructions to _stay right there_. And stay they had, huddled together on the small, hard, hospital chairs facing a plain expanse of gray wall.

Her panic had dispersed in the aftermath of the accident, but she’d since had several hours to remember the events of the afternoon on a sickening loop. The heavy, nauseous feeling in her chest and gut had been reinforced with a strong measure of guilt – which got even worse when she imagined what would happen when they left the safe haven of the hospital. She hadn’t moved since Pete was first taken for X-ray, and she felt like she was melting down into the chair. She felt that the light circles Helena was tracing against her skin were all that was holding her together.

‘Myka?’

A gentle voice managed to break her concentration without making her startle, and the reassuring presence of Helena’s fingertips ceased. Miss Leena had returned and was waiting a few feet away, watching them with that small smile of hers that somehow suggested she was all-knowing.

 ‘I think I’ll get a coffee,’ Helena said, and rose from her seat. Myka took a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding during her latest terrifying cycle of ‘what ifs’ and turned to face her teacher. She sat up, adjusting her position to relieve her stiff limbs as Miss Leena took the vacant seat on her other side. The teacher’s assistant noted the glum mix of fear and guilt emanating from Myka and was glad she’d convinced the Professor to let her take this one. She was generally happy to have such a stern colleague when dealing with unruly groups of hormonal students overseas. But this was a situation which required a little tact and delicacy – and Artie, bless his heart, possessed neither.

‘How’s Pete?’ Myka asked.

‘Pete’s fine. They had to reset his arm and he’s getting a cast put on now, but it’s nothing he hasn’t survived before.’

For some reason, this information caused a painful lump to develop in Myka’s throat, not helped by the follow up question. ‘Are _you_ okay?’

Myka nodded, and nodded again, until Leena ascertained that no, she was not okay at all.

‘Myka, none of this was your fault.’

A huff of disbelief escaped her which sounded scarily close to a sob. When she eventually spoke her voice was barely audible.

‘Everyone saw, didn’t they?’

‘They did.’ Leena paused. ‘You know you have nothing to be ashamed of, right?’

Myka felt a tear escape her right eye and quickly brushed it away, swallowing fiercely.

 ‘Could you try telling that to my dad?’

They shared a look, and Leena’s heart went out to the young woman in front of her. Knowing how fast news travelled in Colorado Springs, it was possible that the rumor mill had gotten to Myka’s family already.

‘You know, if you have any problems at home, or if you don’t feel safe… you come straight to me, okay. We can help.’

‘I just… I don’t know what I’d say. I’ll get home and there’ll be so many questions from Mom and Dad and Tracy and they’ll want answers. But _I_ don’t even know the answers.’

‘What do you know?’

‘I know that until last week everything was normal and now it’s all changed.’

Leena looked thoughtful for a moment.

‘It has?’

Myka looked at her incredulously.

‘I _kissed a girl._ ’

‘So maybe that’s changed. Maybe you’re not exactly the person you thought you were. But there’s a lot more to the Myka _I_ know than who she might sometimes like to kiss. Yes?’

That was oversimplifying things, Myka thought. But she was done with this conversation because speaking coherently was about to become an issue, so she just nodded.

‘So that’s what you tell them, if they ask. That you kissed a girl. You learned something new about yourself. In the future you’ll learn more and if you feel you need to, you can choose what you tell them. Until then, you just kissed a girl. Believe it or not, that’s not a crime.’

She gave Myka a reassuring smile and squeezed her arm gently as she stood. ‘I’d better go check on Pete, and I think your friend wants to see you.’ She smiled at Helena as she walked past, who was loitering in the doorway. She came over and pressed a steaming cup into Myka’s hand.

‘Alright?’

‘Yeah.’

They settled back down together, Myka relaxing into her for the last quiet hour or so before she had to face the music.

 

‘I could really use the roof right now.’

With all eyes on their every move, there was no way they’d be sneaking up there again. It was a shame, as beams of the most beautiful orange streamed through the windows and lit up the room, tempting them outside into the warm early evening.

For all Miss Leena had said, it sure felt like a big deal – or at least as far as her classmates were concerned. A year ago, dating Sam was all that distinguished her as anything other than the quiet girl who lived in the bookstore. When she broke up with him, she was certifiably crazy. And now… well, now she was the girl with two heads, if their stares were anything to go by.

Never before had she missed her invisibility so much. She just wanted to hide away - in a corner, in the cafeteria, in her bedroom, anywhere. But she couldn’t. She hadn’t even been able to enjoy the ten minutes to herself she’d snatched in a bathroom stall earlier – a group of girls had come in and were dissecting her latest exploits while washing their hands. She’d kept still while waiting for them to leave, practically holding her breath so as not to let them know she was there.

Besides, no matter how much she wanted to run right now, she couldn’t just think about herself. Pete, wonderful Pete, had saved her life and was now on pain meds with his arm plastered up. As much of a crappy time she was having, she couldn’t abandon him after everything he’d done. At the very least she could put on a brave face and spend time with him – and as much as she’d been terrified to face everyone, it wasn’t as bad as she’d expected in the common room. Pete was sat next to her with his arm propped up on several couch cushions and a mountain of snacks beside him. Though she was pretty sure everyone was judging her for breaking him, as well as… well, everything else right now, he had his arm around her and was chattering away like he always did. After everything he’d done, even now he was watching over her and making sure there weren’t too many snarky comments. She knew everyone would be talking about her, but at least they were doing it somewhat discretely.

‘Look on the plus side, at least they don’t think we’re dating anymore,’ he remarked, handing her a package of cookies which she dutifully unwrapped before handing them back to him. ‘That was seriously killing my game. And this cast? _Total_ girl magnet.’

He had a point. Almost every girl on the trip had swung by to sign his cast, and his arm was already a dark mess of hearts and kisses and ‘Get Well Soon’s – interspersed with toilet humor from the boys. In the crook of his elbow was a slightly misshapen flower, which she’d adapted from the half-finished crude drawing that Phil Gabers had nearly got away with. Even Sam had wandered past, holding out a hand to Pete while carefully avoiding Myka’s gaze. Most of their visitors had done the same, no-one quite knowing what to say to her, and Sam spoke to Pete directly.

‘Hey, Lattimer. I know I’ve kind of been an ass these last few weeks. I, uh - I think I got the wrong end of the stick. I think what you did today was really cool, and I was wondering… are we good?’

He scratched the back of his neck, and Myka recognized his show of embarrassment for the rare occasions he admitted he might have been wrong. Pete looked over to her with an eyebrow raised in question, forcing Sam to also look in her direction for the verdict. She imagined he was probably feeling just as awkward as she was as their eyes met.

‘Sure,’ she answered for them. ‘We’re okay.’

 

When curfew was called earlier than usual that night, it was Sam who would be helping Pete up to his room and to the bathroom. As the three of them stopped outside Myka’s room to say their goodnights, they could hear hushed voices arguing inside.

 ‘You can _shut your mouth_ , Nadine Thomas. She’s no different than she was yesterday-’

The reply was whispered but angry, and Myka froze and felt her face grow hot. How was she meant to walk in there now?

‘Goodnight, Mykes!’ Pete announced, loud enough for the voices inside to instantly stop their muttering. He reached in for a clumsy hug, and she took care to avoid his bad arm. ‘I wish you could come back with us, but I feel like Neilsen would have a seizure. Try not to stress too much, okay? We’ll see you at breakfast.’

She held on longer than necessary, and smiled weakly at him as she pulled away.

‘I’m so, so sorry about today, Pete. Thank you. Thank you for everything.’

‘No worries, Mykes. We’re all good. Go get ‘em.’

She took a deep breath before stepping into her bedroom. Everyone else was already changed and in bed, reading books or on their phones. She avoided eye contact with any of them as she grabbed her PJs from her bed and made her way over to the changing curtain.

‘Hey, Myka?’

She turned at the sound of Abi Cho’s hesitant voice.

‘I know I shouldn’t have to say this, it’s 2017 for Christ’s sake…’ she blushed herself, and cleared her throat before continuing. ‘I just wanted to let you know we’re fine. And you don’t really talk much, but if you needed to… what I mean to say is, we’re sorry you had a tough day, and we’re – uh, we’re here if you need anything.’

Myka nodded, not quite able to look anywhere but Abi’s earnest face.

‘Thanks, guys.’

As she made her way into the changing area, Hannah Walker started up a conversation about something she’d found in her magazine. The replies weren’t quite as natural as they’d been in previous nights and the atmosphere wasn’t quite so relaxed. But Myka breathed a sigh of relief as, for the moment at least, her world kept turning.


End file.
